


Rescue my heart (I'll drown without you)

by skamsnake



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Alpha Space, Alpha longing, Alpha!Jens, Alpha!Noor, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega Bonding, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Assault, Beta!Britt, Canon compliant-ish, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit ABO biology, Explicit Sexual Content, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Healing, Heat/rut, Homelessness, Insomnia, Knotting, Loneliness, Love Confessions, M/M, Mating Bond, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Scenting, Self-Defense, Self-Loathing, Sexual Tension, Slurs, Smut, Suicide thoughts (brief), Therapy, Unconsciousness, Violence, alpha!sander, and croissants, heavy angst with a happy ending, internalized ableism, omega!robbe, past trauma, pre-heat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 47,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22408060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skamsnake/pseuds/skamsnake
Summary: He takes over 100 photos of the piece. Panoramas, macro shots, out of focus, extracts, everything. His fascination lasts the whole night long. Until he seeshim.Standing on the makeshift stairs next to Noor, is this fox-like brown-haired boy with a face mask, idly holding a spray can he’s clearly never used. And the moon fills his hair, catches his dark eyes, lines his body against the truck. Sander raises his camera, snapping a picture before he can second-guess himself. He pulls down his mask and takes a deep inhale, tries to find his scent, but with nearly 50 other people here, it’s impossible to pick out.Or, the parallel universe in which Sander is a broken alpha and Robbe is the omega that changes everything.
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Comments: 197
Kudos: 1621





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> YESSSS! Finally a lil more ABO in the tag amirite?? Hopefully, just one of many more to come ❤️ We've been working on this for a while now, and I'm so excited to finally share this first chapter with you guys!
> 
> This fic is co-written with one of my dearest and closest friends (who prefers to stay anon) and they took the lead on this first chapter. It's been such a fun proces brainstorming, writing and editing this, and I'm so grateful to go on this journey with you, Z 😘 Can't wait to show everyone what we've come up with!
> 
> Also, a warm thanks to my thirsty abo anons over on tumblr, ilysm pervs 💕
> 
> Also also, please bear in mind that this fic is rated E for a reason and tags will update as we go along, with relevant trigger warnings in chapter notes.
> 
> Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed, it really means the world ❤️

***

As his shadow falls in front of him between the trucks, Sander realises the moonlight is especially bright tonight. He likes that it is.

_Here I am floating ‘round my tin can, far above the moon._

It’s a cloudless night with a full moon, beaming heavily down on the small collection of rebels who have gathered in clandestine solidarity. This happens about once a month, this band of hooligans who meet to exorcise their frustrations and anger through some painless art, and gleefully indulge in vandalism while they do.

Sander’s brought his camera, not because he wants to identify anyone, but to remember their artwork. The council are gonna take these trucks away as soon as the spray paint is discovered in the morning. So for now, he tries to record the best parts of their collective action. It’s mostly signatures and mantras from groups of friends who are already established as graffiti artists in Antwerp. He recognises most of them, but pauses for a long time in front of one that catches his eye. 

It’s just flames. Flames licking up the sides of the truck, curling around the corners, covering every inch of space in vibrant, undeniable blood red, harvest orange, sunflower yellow, and tips of pale blue. 

He takes over 100 photos of the piece. Panoramas, macro shots, out of focus, extracts, everything. His fascination lasts the whole night long. Until he sees _him_.

Standing on the makeshift stairs next to Noor, that friend of Britt’s who Sander’s seen around before, is this fox-like brown-haired boy with a face mask, idly holding a spray can he’s clearly never used. And the moon fills his hair, catches his dark eyes, lines his body against the truck. Sander raises his camera, snapping a picture before he can second-guess himself. He pulls down his mask and takes a deep inhale, tries to find his scent, but with nearly 50 other people here, it’s impossible to pick out. 

Then, he hears the sounds of two growling alphas from his right, making a nuisance of themselves. He watches them from the corner of his eye, as they have some sort of banal territorial fight, and one finally backs down. The tension that had held the entire collective dissipates and Sander turns his head back to find _him_ , but he’s gone.

Instead, Britt appears at his side, smile on her face, and he can’t tell anymore if it’s genuine or not.

‘I didn’t think you’d come,’ he admits, putting his lens cap on and reaching to put his mask back up too.

She stops his hand before he does, sends him a flirty look and kisses him. He doesn’t close his eyes when she does.

‘I wanted to see you,’ she replies, running her other hand up his arm. ‘I haven’t seen you a lot lately.’

He takes a slow breath in and misses, yet again, the fact that Britt is neither an alpha nor an omega. As a beta, she doesn’t have a scent. She smells like the perfume her mother gave her for her birthday, and nothing else. 

‘Yeah, I’ve been distracted. Everything ok?’ he asks, pushing the mask back in place even though he doesn’t really have to.

‘I just miss you,’ Britt says, and tilts her chin up towards him. Sander rails against himself internally, doesn’t know how much longer he can keep up this charade, but scents her anyway to keep her happy, to keep her _quiet_ , to which she hums contentedly. Besides, no-one else would stay with him if they _knew_.

She leans away and says, ‘I’ll check in on you,’ and leaves. Then, he realises, that’s all she wanted-- his scent on her, to feel some kind of status amongst the other betas. He’d be hurt if he wasn’t used to it by now. If he didn’t already know it’s all he’s good for anyway.

As she walks away, the hollow gape in his chest plummets a little more. He can’t stand it. He can’t stand being this lonely and pathetic. He turns back around to the fire and lets the enraged sadness engulf him, just standing there, feeling like it might just tear him apart.

_Planet Earth is blue, and there’s nothing I can do._

**

It’s the following week that Sander is on his way to the skate park, compulsively running his tongue along his teeth. His ‘date’ for the next twenty-some minutes had asked him to meet there, and Sander had agreed. He’s not in the mood for small talk. He just wants a quick, transactional hookup. Something soft and sweet and _hard_ to get him out of the house. A distraction. Something that’s not about school or his prospects or Britt or how every day feels like another life sentence.

Scrolling through the omega tag on Grindr, he’d found one. The guy looked cute on his profile, pretty brief and demanding, but cute. 

Sander represses the guilt that wells up in his gut. He reaches the skatepark right on time, and looks around for the 6’1’’ guy who goes by ‘Sunni99.’ 

After ten minutes with no sign, he sends a follow-up message.

After fifteen minutes he starts to suspect he’s been ghosted.

And after half an hour of waiting, he realises he’s been stood up, as his messages are read and still unanswered. 

It’s not like he’s surprised. Male omegas are pretty rare on the site, and in general, anyway, he should’ve known the profile was fake. He bites lightly on his tongue, his canines blunt against it, and holds back the urge to cry.

That’s when he smells it: a scent of something delectable. He can’t name it, it’s like he’s eating delicious food but can’t figure out what he’s tasting, too absorbed in how _good_ it is, how fucking good it _feels_ to taste it. He sniffs, his skin tight and sensitive under his leather jacket, and wonders if his Grindr date has shown up anyway, if that’s how horny he is at the availability of any omega - because this is undoubtedly the scent of an _omega_. Someone who might just fit into Sander’s arms and be perfectly wet, warm, and uninhibited. 

He sniffs again, his nose scenting the omega out before his eyes catches sight of him: the softest boy he’s ever seen, fox-like and in a brown jacket a little big around his shoulders, walking towards him with a couple of friends, one of them distinctively alpha. 

Realizing with shock that it’s the same boy from the trucks, the very same dark eyes and unkempt hair, he pulls his hood up, not sure why he feels a sudden need to hide. But as they pass, he can’t take his eyes off the boy. Can’t pull away from his scent if he _tried_. Breathless, Sander turns his head as he goes by, and sees the surprise in the small omega’s eyes when he turns his head, too. 

The scent is unbelievably delicious. Exquisite. Like a bakery early in the morning. Or real basil, just cut from the stem. Or fresh rain on the grass. 

‘Sup?’ he hears a voice and looks up to find that girl Noor nodding at him, notices her nostrils flare slightly probably at his own heavy scent reeking off of him right now. 

‘Hey’ he smiles back politely, realizing as she passes him, she must be on her way to see him. To see _her_ omega. 

He inhales again and sighs, hoping to pick up even the slightest hint of baked goods and basil. Wet grass. But it’s almost gone now, fading like smoke the further away he gets. 

The feeling in his gut does not.

**

By the time he gets home, he’s sweating. And even if he doesn’t want to go inside, he knows he has to. There’s a throbbing he knows all too well, a restlessness that won’t cease, which he’d hoped his Grindr date would solve. He considered setting up another hook-up but none of them will be quick enough for him now. For most of his walk home he’s had to secretly press down on his jeans. The scent of that omega-- it’s making it hard to breathe-- it’s crawled under his skin-- he’s too damn _hot_ \-- 

Bursting into the hallway, he flings his shoes off, darts upstairs, throws his bag down in his room, and then locks himself in the bathroom. His t-shirt catches under his chin and he rips it as he undresses, reaching to turn the shower on at the same time, turning the water to cold. A flash crosses his memory, the omega’s brown eyes, the scent gland on his neck, the shape of his small hands and his pink lips, and Sander groans, feeling the full extent of his alpha. His muscles are tense, his arousal so keen that he’s getting a headache, and he hurries into the shower, his hand moving down to his dick as soon as the water hits him. He closes his eyes, leans his forehead against the tiles, and licks his lips. 

This part is the worst, always. His body longing for a wet omega, showing it in all the ways he’s uncomfortable and chafing. His dick is dry, his lips chapped, and his skin so tight, even the water feels like a burn. Everything is too rough, too harsh. 

He drops his mouth open, allowing the water to fall into it, and shuts his eyes. He lets the water fill his mouth, spilling out over his lips, dripping down his chin and chest. What he wouldn’t give to have it be that omega instead.

All at once, his brain rapidly summons a fantasy that his alpha desperately yearns for. He fantasises, abashed and aroused, that the stream from the showerhead is just the omega lowering onto his face, dripping wet and sensitive to touch. It’s barely pleasurable as he strokes himself and ignores the heavy scent of alpha pheromones, his baser instincts pushing him to keep his lips parted, his tongue peeking out, trying to lap up the omega. He knows its not there, but maybe if he just concentrates enough he can taste it. Maybe if he double fists, he can feel the way his omega would present for him. 

What suddenly works for him is the image of the omega walking up behind him in the shower, right now, in this room, walking up behind and grabbing his alpha’s dick, whispering, ‘I think you can get harder. I think you can. And I think you can take me against the wall, can’t you? Get my legs around your waist and just bury yourself to the hilt inside me. Yeah? I can take it, too. I can take your alpha. I bet you’d be surprised just how much I can take. Fucking _harder_ , Sander. Harder. Pull me apart and show me you want it.’

He rubs his scent gland furiously, fantasizing it’s the omega flicking it, and strokes himself at the same time, feeling the edge fly closer towards him, until - with a kittenish lick of the omega’s little tongue at his ear - he comes, twice in quick succession, growls echoing in the bathroom. It goes on and on, his tongue still pointed and seeking more. 

‘Sander!’ he hears calling from downstairs and groans, his alpha still holding on to an unmistakable hunger that no cold shower could abate in the slightest. Still, he’s too tired to keep tormenting himself with dreams of him. 

Turning off the shower, he pats himself down with a towel -- feeling shrivelled again -- puts on some briefs and a hoodie, and heads downstairs.

**

He’s in his life drawing class the next day when his phone buzzes. The sound alerts his tutor, whose sharp eyes land on him immediately, suspicious and intolerant. His scent hostile, like an old mated omega. Sander pretends not to notice, and works more on the shading of the model’s back. 

‘Reminder that all phones are prohibited while life drawing, as you well know,’ his tutor announces, sniffing in disdain at one of his classmate’s canvases. 

Sander hates not knowing, though, so he takes a quick bathroom break and checks his phone.

**  
  
**

_Britt (12:12)_

Hey handsome  
I’m going with Noor and a bunch of guys  
from KA Berchem to a beach house  
in Westende Bad on saturday  
please come baby

**  
  
**

_Amber (12:15)_

Did Britt text you about the   
beach house on friday?

**  
  
**

He sighs and pockets his phone, leaving both of them on read. A whole weekend with a bunch of mostly strangers, a whole weekend of performing for Britt, pretending he’s content, telling people the half-lies that have grown more familiar than the truth, is the last thing he needs right now, especially if Amber is going to monitor him the entire time.

But something about it still intrigues him. The fact that Noor’s going too and the off chance that _maybe_ just maybe she’ll bring him, the _omega_ , still makes him want to pack up his stuff immediately and go, still leaves him with a hunger that can’t be satisfied until he’s at least _tried_ to find him again.

Besides, what else is he going to do? Watch _The Man Who Fell To Earth_ for the hundredth time?

**  
  
**

_Britt (12:21)_

OK, sounds good  
What’s the plan?

**  
  
  
**

_Amber (12:22)_

Yeah I’m going, saturday right?  
I’d prefer if you just treat me   
as Britt’s boyfriend nothing else

**  
  
**

_Amber (12:25)_

I’m going with the others on friday.  
Noor’s got work so she’s coming with   
Britt on saturday.

Btw they’ll probably find out at   
some stage, you know  
You guys are pretty serious now  
So like, ok, but i’m just saying  
It’s kind of pointless

_Amber (12:26)_

I’m not gonna read all that   
so I’m assuming  
you’re chill with it 👍

I’m coming friday

**  
  
**

**

Because his classes let out early on Fridays, Sander has to stop himself from going directly to the beach house. Has to occupy himself with extracurricular work at school to force himself to wait until evening so it doesn’t look too suspicious. So it doesn’t look like he’s deliberately avoiding Britt. 

He hops on his bike to Central station, and catches the 21:37 train, changing at Gent-Sint-Pieters, thrilled to get a table seat. He puts on his Bowie playlist, and gazes out in the night passing his window, sketching occasionally in his notebook. Wolves and foxes and _fire_.

Suddenly he’s shaken by the conductor, who laughs and tells him they’re at the final stop. Confused, Sander looks around and sees the carriage is mostly empty. He realises he’d fallen asleep on the train. A little embarrassed, he gathers his bag and jacket and alights from the train, taking his phone out to check the text from Amber and where he’s supposed to go, only to realise he’s missed the last connecting bus from Ostend to Westende Bad.

 _Fuck_.

He opens the group chat named ‘best weekend ever’, _probably Amber’s choice_ , that he’d been added to and purposefully ignored, scrolling down through 100+ messages about beer and and paintball and bleach from some 10+ people and writes, 

_(00:17)_

so yeah I fucked up  
can someone send me the address   
i’m at Ostend  
no more buses   
can pay for info with beer

_brittingelbrecht2 (00:18)_

What?   
You’re there now??  
I’m not coming until tomorrow morning

__amberxje (00:18)_

Sander 🙄

_jensrolt (00:18)_

shit dude  
we were gonna hit the sack early   
But I can come pick you up?

_You (00:19)_

no worries  
just leave a light on lol  
i’ll nick a bike or smth

Sander isn’t wild about meeting new people right away anyway; he’d expected to just make his way to the beach house and have a smoke break until he was ready for small talk. He pockets his phone and leaves the train station, passing the weird statue of women sitting down, lights a cigarette and leaves it hanging at his lips as he goes through the bike’s outside, checking which lock is easier to break, ignoring the insistent pinging of his phone.

_jensrolt (00:20)_

cool see you tomorrow man

__amberxje (00:20)_

Be careful. It’s dark out 💜

_sterkerdanijzer (00:21)_

i can stay up  
to let you in 

**  
****

He arrives at the beach house sweaty and a little out of breath. It’s completely dark out, but he doesn’t need light to see, let’s his instinct guide him. As soon as he approaches the building, it hits him like a tidal wave. That scent again. 

His mouth waters and his eyes dart around until he locates the house it’s coming from. It’s so potent, dizzying, and so overwhelming -- it feels like he’s about to go into a rut.

As the discovery awakens in his mind, he smells other scents too, one that reminds him of summer barbecues and midnight bonfires. All distinctively alpha, except that _one_ , the one that is so strong, so _sweet_ , that he has to lean against the doorframe to not fall over, the one that is clearly his omega. And it is _his_ omega-

‘Are you the manager?’ a soft voice interrupts his line of thought and Sander looks up in surprise, hadn’t even noticed the door opening, ‘there’s an issue with the coffee machine’ 

Sander doesn’t respond, he just stands there, weak, holding his breath as he takes in the sight of the omega, all hazel brown eyes, pink lips and soft curls. It takes his full attention to hold back his body’s urge to wrap itself around this omega, _his_ omega, graceful and a little guarded, _glowing_. 

He knows the guy can probably smell how intense his urges are, how much he wants to lick his scent glands, his lips, anywhere at all, and he wishes he could mask it somehow. But as he stares at him, he realises there’s no point. All he can smell is that delicious comfort, that tasty fresh warmth that he just wants to bury himself in. 

‘I’m kidding! You should’ve seen your face,’ the boy chuckles. ‘I’m Robbe,’ he smiles and reaches out a hand in greeting and Sander accepts it. 

‘Sander,’ he lets out a shaky exhale, feeling the warm softness of Robbe’s palm against his own. For the brief moment they’re touching, a silence passes between them, barely noticeable but just as profound, pushing at him until Robbe tilts his head and smiles, a little confused and so unbelievably _cute_. 

It almost hurts when Robbe lets go of his hand and stands back to let him in. It’s just as well, Sander thinks, because he doesn’t know how else he was meant to touch him and ever let go.

‘Come,’ Robbe says, his mouth slightly ajar and his nostrils flared. Sander wonders if he smells Sander like Sander smells him, like there’s just not enough space in his lungs.

‘All the bunk beds are taken but there’s an extra room with a double bed,’ Robbe points at a half open door. ‘I think Jens wanted to save it if someone wanted to-‘ he stops himself, blushing a bit, ‘but I’m sure he won’t mind,’ he smiles softly, his head tilted a little to the side again, exposing his neck slightly, and in this moment there’s nothing Sander wants more than to sink his teeth in that soft milky skin, feeling the instinct for his alpha canines to extend, but catches himself, swallows the shame, and holds his breath as he passes Robbe to enter the bedroom.

Sander feels his heart start to race as the moment passes, can’t bear the thought of it already over, can’t stand not knowing everything there is to know about this boy, not seeing every part of him, touching every inch of him.

‘Do you want to maybe--’ 

‘You’re Britt’s boyfriend, right?’ Robbe asks quietly, dragging his words like he’s dragging his gaze up Sander’s body, like he’s dragging his teeth along Sander’s skin.

 _If wishing made it_ **_not_ ** _so_ , Sander thinks, but instead replies, ‘Yeah, uh. She’s coming tomorrow.’

‘Better get some rest then,’ Robbe smiles politely, ‘I’ll leave you to it.’ He closes the door, leaving Sander alone with a racing heart, Robbe’s scent still lingering in the air.

This was going to be one hell of a weekend.

******

‘She’s a... handful,’ Jens says with a quizzical expression, and Robbe sends him a look as if he’s offended on Sander’s behalf. 

‘ _Jens..._ ’ he sighs.

Sander took the backseat and Robbe joined Jens in the front, just far enough away for Sander to be able to breathe properly despite Robbe’s scent filling up the entire confined space of Jens’ old car.

Sander had gotten up early, pretending to make coffee in the kitchen, waiting really, _hoping_ , to run into Robbe, but he only met Amber with some other girls, ignoring her scowling at him as he reluctantly introduced himself as Britt’s boyfriend. 

Robbe didn’t come out of his room until the very last minute and now they’re on the way to pick up Britt and Noor at the train station. 

‘What, she is? It’s a fact,’ he speaks over his shoulder, ‘No offense man,’ he continues, suddenly prompting Sander to realise --

‘Oh, you’re... Jens, like, Jens the _ex_?’ 

Jens sends him a big grin in the rearview mirror and smugly replies, ‘Yep.’ He runs his tongue along his teeth. ‘Only wants them alphas huh? But don’t worry, we’re totally done.’

Sander doesn’t hold back the impulse to retort, ‘Wish I could say the same.’ 

He knows he’d never have been that indiscreet if he hadn’t been so focused on resisting Robbe’s scent, still filling him up and making it hard to _speak_. 

Instantly, Jens checks his expression with a confused look, Robbe turning his head slightly but not enough to fully look at him and Sander swears he can _see_ his ears prick up at Sander’s confession, awkward silence between the three until Sander throws in a joke to cut the tension: 

‘Trouble in paradise,’ he sighs. 

‘Who knew paradise was in Belgium this whole time,’ Jens jokes back and smiles, a small sign that he’s made a friend, however unlikely.

‘Yeah, who knew,’ Sander’s eyes land on Robbe, gaze burning into the back of his head and Robbe feels it too, Sander _knows_ , from the way he shifts slightly in his seat and gazes out the window, a blush spreading up the side of his neck.

‘We should drop by the store after, I’m gasping for beer,’ Jens states matter-of-factly as they pull up by the curb next to the weird statue of women sitting outside the train station, might as well be Britt and Noor, Sander wouldn’t be able to tell the difference right now anyway.

**

‘Nope’ Britt snorts as she scrolls through the list on Sander’s phone, ‘Nope.’

‘But Amber-‘

‘Amber isn’t here,’ she cuts him off, clearly still mad he’d gone to the beach house without her. Sander clenches his teeth when she takes out the bag of chips he’d just put in the shopping cart, clearly making a show of humiliating him in front of the others and for the briefest of moments Sander fantasises about driving the shopping cart at her.

Robbe gazes at him nervously, thankfully the only one who seemed to pick up on the sudden hostility in his scent and the low growl Sander couldn’t hold back. He stops and takes a deep breath, watching as Britt continues ahead without as much as looking back. Making a quick left to bring himself out of view, he presses his back up against the shelves and closes his eyes, whispering, reciting, trying to calm himself down.

_My mother said to get things done you’d better not mess with Major Tom my mother said to get things done you’d better not mess with Major Tom my mother said, to get things done you’d better not mess with Major Tom my mother said-_

‘Who’s Major Tom?’ 

He opens his eyes, finding beautiful hazel ones looking back at him, finding himself completely enveloped by Robbe’s scent, simultaneously calming and lighting up his entire being.

‘Ashes to Ashes,’ Sander sighs and smiles, ‘Bowie? You know Bowie, right?’

‘Yea- yeah…’ Robbe looks up at him from under his lashes, blushing slightly, and Sander can almost _see_ how hard his brain is working to summon up any piece of information about Bowie, ‘Yes, vaguely.’

Robbe smiles and bites his lip, looking both adorable and absolutely _edible_ and Sander has to bite the inside of his cheek to not reach out and caress Robbe’s, still a dark pink blush spread there perfectly, like it’s from a brushstroke.

‘Not _really_ ,’ a light voice chuckles behind Robbe, hands coming around him from behind and pressing up against his chest and stomach and Sander feels his nostrils flare at the sight, at the _scent,_ ‘You don’t know Bowie, baby.’

Robbe looks up at Sander, embarrassment burning on his face, blending the pink a deeper color.

‘I do,’ he insists, turning his head back towards Noor.

‘Okay then name three of his songs,’ she challenges him playfully, eyes seeking Sander’s for support but his are still fixed on Robbe.

‘Space... uhm,’ Robbe clears his throat, wiggles free of her hold, ‘Isn’t that one of his songs, Space Co-‘

‘Oddity!’ Sander chips in quickly, ‘Space Oddity, yes it is!’ he smiles, still ignoring Noor’s gaze.

‘Aw,’ she coos sweetly and Sander can’t tell if it’s at him or Robbe, if it’s genuine or not, if she’s suspecting something, ‘But really, baby,’ she puts an arm around Robbe and moves to walk down the aisle, pulling him with her. 

‘Really, he has such good songs…’ she continues as they walk further away from him, voices and scents fading, _‘Life on Mars, Ziggy Stardust, Ashes to Ashes…’_

**

The twenty-minute car ride to the beach house is excruciating. Noor took the front seat before Sander had a chance to object. Which means that Sander is now sitting in the middle, squished up between his grumpy girlfriend and the most gorgeous omega he’s ever laid his eyes on. 

There’s a burning sensation where his leg is touching Robbe’s and his head is completely enveloped in Robbe’s scent, so thick he can taste it on his tongue, making him sweat and drool and _worse_ , feeling too damn _hot_ and _dry_ and _stretched_ to be this close. 

He is more than grateful when the radio bursts out _Rebel Rebel_ loud enough to make conversation impractical, and he can just focus on the music and his own breathing, fingers digging into his thigh to control his impulses.

He can’t remember the last time he was on the verge of a rut this bad - if it even is an oncoming rut. Britt doesn’t seem to notice the state he’s in, just gazes out the window uninterested, still acting offended he didn’t tell her he was going last night. 

But if it was a real rut he wouldn’t be able to control the urges, he tells himself, he’d be semi-conscious, and probably feel obligated to call the nearest clinic to get some more of those suppressants he hates so much, and numb himself. 

No, he can control himself. He’s just struggling to right now, and he doesn’t know the last time it was this intense to be near an omega and so set off. But if he breathes through his mouth, and tries to ignore Robbe, it’s not so bad. It’s almost ok. It _has_ to be ok.

Not a minute too soon, they get to the beach house and Sander bolts out of the car, sprinting into the spare bedroom he’s now claimed as his. He strips his leather jacket off. Then his shoes, _goddamn laces_ , his socks, his t-shirt. Flinging the window open, he gulps in the sea air and tries to clear the haze in his head. But it’s not enough. He’s indenting the windowsill with the force of his grip and biting his lip, his arousal tipping him into alpha space, where he can’t think, he can’t stop, he only feels the desperate need to lick, kiss, finger, penetrate, grasp, fuck, unload, and go again. 

‘You ok?’ a soft voice speaks behind him and Sander grips the windowsill harder so as to not jump Robbe right then and there, ‘There’s some suppressants in the bathroom if you’re going into rut--’

‘I don’t- It’s… not a rut,’ Sander chokes back, his eyes rolling back in his head with the scent Robbe’s brought into the room. ‘I don’t really know what it is, but I-I’m slipping into alpha space, I think--’

‘Oh… _oh_ ,’ Robbe replies. ‘Uh, I’ll, uh-- I’ll leave you to it.’

Sander turns his head to look at Robbe properly, and can’t for the _life_ of him stop his alpha strangling words out he most definitely shouldn’t be speaking when his girlfriend is _right_ outside and Robbe’s already claimed by another alpha.

‘You don’t have to.’

The shock on Robbe’s face is enough to alert Sander to the fact that he’s pushed the line. Some things can’t be justified by alpha need, no matter how urgent, and he’s about to apologise when Robbe’s hesitancy morphs into a careful step forward. 

Sander straightens up and turns fully to face Robbe, letting himself breathe through his nose now, and the way the scent lights up his pleasure points feels like a high. He leans back against the windowsill, his dick is fully hard, straining at his jeans, and he instinctively juts his hips forward, willing his alpha scent to have as much of an effect on his omega.

When he opens his eyes a moment later, Robbe is mere inches from him, eyes fixed on Sander’s lips. 

‘Why …’ Robbe whispers, his right hand moving up his own neck, ‘Why do you…’ 

Before Sander even processes what’s happening, Robbe brushes a finger along his own scent gland -- sending a spike of arousal through Sander like a lightning -- Sander tilts his head closer, parting his lips to align with Robbe’s, feeling the warmth of his breath on his face, that incredible scent seeming to radiate from Robbe like a wave. They aren’t even touching and Sander still feels like he’s about to _explode_. He can’t hold back any longer now.

‘Sander!’ comes a shout from the hallway with quick footsteps alongside, ‘where are we gonna sleep?’

Robbe jumps back from Sander like they’ve already been caught. That’s when Sander notices the wet patch on his jeans, and he can’t help moving his hand down to his own and pressing there. He needs to _taste_. 

Robbe notices too, biting his lip nervously but still managing to take a couple of steps further away before Britt enters the room.

‘What’s going _on_ with you these days?!’ she sighs, exasperated.

‘I think he’s uh--’ Robbe tries, gaze shifting between Sander and Britt, ‘I think he’s... going into alphaspace.’

‘Oh’ Britt says surprised, voice suddenly sickeningly sweet and Sander swears he sees tiniest of smirks forming on her glossy lips, then without as much as glancing at Sander she says, voice proud and slightly condescending. 

‘Thanks, I’ll take it from here.’

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we have a new chapter for you! Apologies for the slight delay - we've been working our asses off for this one (and Z straight up saved it with their genius as per usual) so I really hope you'll enjoy it - at home, at a safe distance to anyone else ok?🙏
> 
> Please leave a kudos or a comment if you enjoyed - and stay safe 💗

***

‘Better, baby?’ Britt coos, wraps her arms around Sander’s waist and presses herself into his back where he’s standing, still turned away from her, gazing absentmindedly out the window.

‘Yeah,’ he sighs, trying not to reveal the fact that his drop into alpha space had eased off completely as soon as Robbe left the room, ‘I’m fine.’

‘I didn’t know you’d missed me so much. Sorry I was such a bitch earlier,’ she says, her hand snaking its way down the front of his jeans to press against his fading hardness and he flinches slightly, turning to kiss her forehead instead.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ he smiles and wiggles free of her grip, ‘I think I’m gonna get some fresh air.’

**

Sander’s always been drawn to the ocean. Drawn to the calm stillness of its surface, the dark dangerous depths underneath, undercurrents taking every living thing with it, pulling it apart. A reflection.

He’s sitting on a dune, heels digging into the soft sand under him, watching the others goof around and playing dodge ball on the beach below, occasionally bringing the camera to his face, hiding behind it maybe, not sure if he brought it to actually take photos or really to have an excuse to seek the solitude. 

His lens zooms in on Robbe as if by its own will, follows him, soft and sweet in his brown suede jacket and windblown curls, Sander’s jaw clenching tightly when Noor bursts into the frame, jumping up on Robbe’s back.

‘So you’re our great artist, huh?’

Sander looks over his shoulder, brows raised in surprise, but silently thankful for the distraction. 

‘Britt told me,’ Jens smiles and plops down next to him, taking a drag of a blunt and offering it to Sander, ‘Or rather-- _bragged_ ,’ he chuckles.

‘Yeah,’ Sander sighs, accepting Jens’ offer, enjoying the slight burn of the smoke down his throat, ‘I’m no good really, but I try.’

They sit in silence for a while, passing the joint between them, listening to the wind that carries crashing waves to the shoreline and incomprehensible squeals of joy from the beach up through the dunes. 

‘So, you and Britt, all good again?’ Jens asks, gaze shifting from the horizon and back to Sander.

‘Yeah,’ Sander sighs, ‘Or, I mean, it’s a bit up and down, mostly down lately,’ he admits in a moment of sudden sincerity, ‘It seems like lately I keep getting on her nerves.’

‘Hmm,’ Jens just hums in response.

‘I don’t know, man,’ Sander shrugs, ‘We’ve been together six months, is that normal? What would you do, stay or leave?’ 

‘Well uhm... I guess I kinda already left once, didn’t I?’ Jens huffs out a laugh. 

‘Oh right,’ Sander smiles and nods, remembering what Britt had told him about her ex and her best friend. ‘You’re with, uh-‘

‘Jana? Not anymore,’ Jens turns his head to look back down at the beach and there’s a sadness in his voice that feels familiar in a way Sander can’t quite explain. 

‘Maybe we just need to meet new people,’ Sander shrugs, realizing he might have more in common with this alpha than he initially thought.

‘Like a weekend trip with strangers?’ Jens laughs.

‘I don’t know,’ Sander shrugs, ‘Maybe I’m just scared I’ll never find someone-’

‘Someone who’ll love you?’ Jens finishes his sentence like it was his own, smiling to himself, his eyes locked on something or maybe someone on the beach, ‘I think we will.’

‘How long have you known him?’ Sander asks, not even bothering to explain further, realizing Jens has probably picked up on the changes in his scent long ago anyway. 

‘Always,’ Jens sighs fondly, voice suddenly warm and tender, ‘I mean, as far back as I remember. He practically lives at mine whenever things get rough at home.’

‘Oh,’ Sander nods as casually as he can manage, trying not to sound overly possessive.

‘I guess I’m a little protective of him,’ Jens chuckles, then turns to look Sander in the eye, ‘He really doesn’t need any more fucked up people in his life, you know?’

A silence passes between them and Sander nods, trying to swallow down the immediate pain in his chest.

‘And Amber?’ Jens starts, ‘How do you know-‘

‘Sorry, I’m hungry, man,’ Sander interrupts him, quickly getting on his feet, ‘Gonna head back, thanks for the smoke,’ he waves awkwardly and turns to walk to the beach house, willing himself to not look back.

**

The beach house feels eerily quiet, abandoned almost, now that everyone’s down at the beach. Sander doesn’t mind. In fact as far back as he remembers, he’s always been seeking the silence, the solitude. Needed it even. Or deserved it maybe.

 _‘He doesn’t need any more fucked up people in his life.’_

Sander feels his chest tighten, his teeth clenching, like his body is resisting the information Jens just provided, like it’s trying to fight when really there’s nothing he can do but flee, he knows it has to stop -- before it’s even begun. 

The distress Jens’ words brought onto him is quickly morphing into a restlessness that he doesn’t know how to contain, even if he knows that feeling all too well by now.

He feels guilty for letting himself believe, even for a minute, that this could’ve been different, guilty for forgetting in a moment of blissful ignorance, that he himself is the most fucked up person he knows.

He tries to think of something to distract himself, _anything_ , but his alpha keeps picking up on Robbe’s scent everywhere inside the house, keeps seeking the comforting sweetness, the warm scent of home even if he’s never really known one, pulling at him, _calling_ him almost, until he finds himself in the middle of the other bedroom, the one with bunk beds, eyes searching frantically for what his alpha’s already found -- the bottom bunk at the far end of the room -- Robbe’s bed.

He knows he shouldn’t. He knows it’s wrong, but he can’t for the _life_ of him make his feet stop moving.

At first he just touches it, fingers lightly brushing over the sleeping bag, up along the zipper until they reach the seam, for the briefest of moments slipping inside to feel the soft lining. Pulling back a bit, Sander shakes his head wildly and takes a deep breath, trying to make himself stop whatever it is that he’s doing, shame washing over him the next minute when he almost immediately gives into his alpha’s urge to pick up the soft pillow and bring it to his face, inhaling deeply, _desperately_ , like a freediver coming up for air after staying far too long under water, and in this moment there’s nothing but _this_ \-- his alpha and the sweet scent of Robbe’s omega, opening up like a trap-door beneath him, leaving him free falling, plunging down with a dizzying, delirious drop into a world he never knew existed, a world where there is love.

It’s when he opens his eyes again, not sure how much time has passed, he finds himself almost fully inside the sleeping bag, not sure how he even got there. All he knows is he’s never felt more calm, cradling the pillow close to his chest, the feeling of safety so strong it almost drowns out the sorrow that this is the closest he’ll ever be to this boy. This omega.

It’s when he opens his eyes again, he realizes it isn’t so quiet anymore. That there’s light voices and sounds of footsteps outside the house. Quickly he worms his way out of the sleeping bag, knocking his head against the top bunk as he makes his way out onto the floor, zipping up the sleeping bag tight before sprinting to the kitchen pretending to be putting on music and making himself useful, before anyone can suspect what he’s done.

  
  


**

‘Hey.’

Sander turns around, still a little breathless, Robbe’s shy smile from the doorway not doing much to alleviate it. Cheeks pink from the cold outside, Robbe runs a hand through his curls, still perfectly messy, and Sander has to bite the inside of his own cheek to remind himself this omega is off limits.

‘Hey! I was just making croques for everyone,’ Sander lies, then clears his throat, picking up a bag of white bread and waving it at Robbe, ‘but I couldn’t find a pan-’

‘Oh, here-’ Robbe steps into the small space of the kitchen, his scent coming at Sander with renewed force, making him grab a hold of the kitchen counter to steady himself. 

‘Let me help you,’ Robbe says softly, dropping to his knees right in front of Sander and it feels like the earth just cracked under him. 

Sander struggles to contain himself, struggles to _breathe_ , as Robbe searches the cupboard for a pan the right size, seemingly clueless of the effect he has on him. Pausing momentarily as he makes his way slowly back up, Robbe’s face is close enough that Sander wonders for a moment if Robbe can smell how affected he is. How could he _not_? 

‘Your scent...’ Robbe smiles carefully and Sander exhales, almost relieved, ‘...it’s different?’ Robbe continues, brows knitted together in a slight frown, sweet and confused as he hands Sander the pan, and that’s when he realizes it isn’t his scent Robbe is catching on to, it’s his _own_ still lingering on Sander’s clothes, on his skin.

‘Uh yeah, I think Britt’s been wearing my jacket,’ Sander tries to laugh it off, hating himself for making Robbe’s smile falter, thankful when his phone churns out another Bowie classic providing him with an excuse to move over and turn it up a bit, feeling as much under pressure himself when his hand comes up, as if by its own will, protectively brushing over Robbe’s back on his way there and he _swears_ Robbe stumbles a bit at the touch.

‘Feel that bass riff,’ he squeezes his eyes shut and gestures comically with his hands, the slight distance to Robbe’s scent now having a somewhat clearing effect on his clouded mind. 

‘So that’s your thing, Bowie?’ Robbe asks softly and smiles again and Sander nods.

Relieved at the slight ease of tension, he dances his way back to his croque making station. They stand there together in silence for a while, Sander handing over the croques one by one for Robbe to toast, and for a moment Sander thinks he can do this. That it’s going to be ok. But that’s only until Sander slides the last croques into the pan, fingers momentarily brushing over the back of Robbe’s hand, not sure whether the slight burning sensation he feels on his fingertips is from the heated pan or Robbe’s skin and Sander swallows hard, forcing his body to withdraw, even if it feels like he’s going against natural law.

He pushes himself up on the kitchen counter and proceeds to roll another joint, watching out of the corner of his eye how Robbe looks up at him through fluttering lashes, not missing the way he bites his lip when Sander licks along the rolling paper.

‘Croques,’ Robbe sighs, turning one of the toasts in the frying pan, ‘they really remind me of my childhood.’

‘Yeah?’ Sander smiles.

‘My mom used to always make them.’ 

_His mom too, before everything._

‘On Sundays, she made croques for the whole family, as a way to see everyone again,’ Robbe continues, and there’s a quiet sadness in his voice serving as a ruthless reminder that Robbe has his own story too, his own baggage, and that Sander needs to back the fuck _off_.

_He doesn’t need any more fucked up people in his life._

‘Does your family have any traditions?’ Robbe asks quietly, turning the last toast and placing it on top of the plateful of perfectly crusted croques.

‘No,’ Sander tries to sound disinterested, dismissive, even though every cell in his body is screaming for him to reach out and take Robbe’s hand, aching to know what it would be like to hold it in his own, how delicate and soft it would feel against the palm of his hand, how delicious it would be to brush his thumb, his _nose_ , along the scent gland on the inside of Robbe’s small wrist.

‘So,’ Sander clears his throat as if to interrupt his own line of thought, jumping down from the kitchen counter.

He picks up one of the freshly fried toasts and cuts it in two, ignoring the slight burn of the crisp bread, trying and failing to ignore the burning sensation of Robbe’s gaze on him too.

‘Ready to be mind blown?’ Sander jokes, offering the one half to Robbe but instead of taking it, Robbe just stares at him and parts his lips slowly, his expression soft and open and vulnerable as he waits patiently for Sander to feed him. 

Sander lets out a shaky exhale, has to bite back a growl at the sight of Robbe like this and the homely sweet smell of his omega, mixing with the warm scent of buttered toast and weed. 

Robbe doesn’t take his eyes off him, just tilts his head down to take a bite, and Sander can’t tell if it’s the sudden close proximity or his own heightened senses, but it feels like Robbe’s scent explodes, _expands_ , crashes over him and pulls like an undercurrent and Sander can’t think of anything else but how much he too wants to _taste_.

‘Broerrrs!’ comes a shout from the hallway, startling them both, ‘where’s our dinner?!’ 

‘Coming!’ Robbe shouts back, eyes still locked on Sander but his voice wavers slightly as he swallows down the bite.

‘Best croque ever,’ he whispers, picks up the plate and walks away out into the hallway.

  
  


**

Sander watches the sparks from the bonfire rise up into the black sky. He’s holding on to his fourth (fifth? who knows) bottle of Leffe beer, arms tight around his knees, trying to swallow down how irritating Britt’s clinging touches feel. She’s making it very clear to the rest of the circle assembled around the growing fire that Sander is her alpha. As she does every time they’re together. 

He knows she’s not a bad person. Still, more and more Sander is growing resentful of her, and disgusted with himself. But their lie is better than his isolating truth, so he grits his teeth and pretends everything is fine. Even when his scent gland is still tingling.

The bonfire eats at their leftover cardboard beer cases, and some extra kindling Amber brought, but it’ll die soon if they don’t feed it. Sander stares into the core of the flame and ignores the chill at his back. This is always the problem with bonfires on the beach - neither cold or hot enough for anyone’s liking. He downs the bottle of beer and tosses it over his shoulder with a grunt.

‘There you are.’ He registers Noor’s greeting and turns his head, catching sight of Robbe joining them, and suddenly the cold doesn’t feel so harsh against his back, a warmth spreading from inside his chest through his entire body. 

‘That was a long nap,’ Noor smiles and pats the seat on the blanket next to her, signalling Robbe to sit down right across from Sander. ‘Nesting?’ she adds with a softness in her voice Sander hasn’t heard before.

Robbe had disappeared into his room after dinner and Sander had felt a heat spread up his neck, much like the one he’s feeling now, at the thought of Robbe discovering what he’d done. How his alpha had snuck its way into his bed, his temporary nest for the weekend, and defiled it.

‘Yeah,’ Robbe smiles as he sits down, gaze immediately landing on Sander. ‘Just what I needed,’ he says, eyes locked on his and Sander swallows hard, forcing himself to turn away pretending to look around for more to drink, interrupted by another conversation he’d ignored until now.

‘...she already mated with her omega. Can you believe it?’ he hears and his heart skips a beat at the thought of Noor and Robbe-- until he realizes Britt is just talking about some couple from the elitist school.

‘They’re not even 18 yet. Like, I know it must be _amazing_ , especially mated sex, I mean you all know the stories, but _really_ ,’ Britt continues to gossip happily, watching shock paint the faces of her friends around the bonfire. Except Robbe, who’s nuzzling into Noor, occasionally stealing a glance in his direction. 

‘Is that Elëa and Olivia?’ Noor asks, her fingers playing gently with Robbe’s hair but her lips pressed together in skepticism.

‘Yes!’ Britt replies, triumphant.

‘Yeah, they’re the real deal though,’ Noor says, as she drags from the cigarette in her other hand. ‘I’ve hung out with them a few times at the trucks. Spray-painting. They’re in it for the long haul. Besides, we’re not in a place to judge.’

Britt visibly flinches at Noor’s last comment. ‘What? What do you mean?’

Noor exhales a long plume of smoke and then gazes back at Britt. ‘Well, it’s their decision, isn’t it? It doesn’t matter what some beta thinks.’

If Britt weren’t a beta, Sander is certain he’d be able to smell fury in her scent. She grimaces, manifestly _incensed_ at Noor, her _best_ friend, commenting on her presentation. 

‘Well, I suppose -- as an unmated alpha, it might be a sensitive topic for you,’ Britt replies, spite barely concealed in her tone.

Noor raises an eyebrow and holds Britt’s stare. ‘Not that it’s any of your business,’ she says, her voice faltering slightly, ‘but Robbe and I are taking it slow, you know that,’ she continues assertively, but there’s a pain in her words that only another alpha would sense, and it catches Sander’s attention. 

He glances first to her and then to Robbe, whose face has turned dark. Over the smell of fire smoke and sea salt, Sander can clearly discern omega shame.

He’s not the only one who’s noticed. Though Britt is smug, pleased at having removed the attention from herself, Sander can see how Jens and that girl, Jana, are both looking to Robbe protectively. Robbe looks over to Jens, his eyes low, and a silent communication draws out between them.

Then Jens glances round the circle and finishes with his eyes on Britt, loudly saying, ‘I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal of it, Britt. I’m an alpha and I’m never gonna mate.’

‘You’re not?!’ Britt says, performing her confusion a little for the benefit of her audience. Especially Amber, who looks just as outraged.

‘No. It’s an old-fashioned convention. Like, fine if that’s something you wanna do, but I don’t. I’ve never really understood the hype around it. It’s just a bite, and sex is perfectly good without it.’

The Broerrrs all crow delightedly, immaturely thrilled at the mere mention of intercourse.

‘Honestly, Jens,’ Britt sighs. ‘Someday I hope you’ll grow out of being an idiot and become a _proper_ alpha,’ she bites back, and it seems to sting Jana more than Jens.

‘I’m not interested in mating with anyone,’ Jens shrugs, frowning in annoyance at Britt. ‘I don’t see why your insistence on it should affect my decision. Aren’t you girls all about bodily autonomy anyway?’

Britt stiffens as the boys _ooohs_ dramatically, and Sander can sense her malice coming towards him even before she speaks.

Casting round for a comeback, she spits, ‘But you _can_ mate, can’t you? If you wanted to?’ with an apologetic side glance at Sander. 

The unintended insult doesn’t even hurt him anymore, he just absorbs it with all the rest.

‘Yeah, so?’ Jens replies. ‘Alphas don’t owe you shit. My teeth, my choice, beta.’

Britt scoffs and then turns to face Sander, looking him up and down as if to say _back me up_. But Sander opens up his next beer and takes a sip, turning his gaze to the fire. She huffs, and stands up, storming off back to the cabin as Amber sighs and follows her, pleading ‘ _Britt_ , don’t be upset-- they’re just drunk--’

Sander refuses to look up until the conversation has settled comfortably on another topic, consumed with annoyance and deep-seated shame. When he does risk a glance up, he catches Jens’ gentle stare, followed by a silent nod to check he’s alright. Sander shrugs and nods back, then feels another pair of eyes on him. Robbe. 

He looks back, indifferent as to whether or not Robbe will pick up on his alpha shame or desire, or maybe both.

But Robbe just holds his gaze, and suddenly Sander feels a wave of something pass through him, like a shower of water or a gentle wind, instantly taking some of his hurt away. He sits up straight and wonders what happened, when he intuitively realizes that Robbe’s omega was responsible. 

Somehow, despite there being no bond, Robbe channeled omega care to him. Silently, subtly, across a small bonfire, where the sparks continued to fly off and drift into the black sky, Robbe transferred his own protection to Sander, even if just for a moment.

Sander stares back, wide-eyed and dumbfounded. Robbe sees his body language change, and quickly, subtly, sends him a small smile.

  
  


**

‘Is it too much to ask to get some bacon and eggs and beans in tomato sauce in the morning?’ Sander grunts, barely awake yet. He scowls at Amber from where he’s standing, resting against the kitchen counter. 

‘Zero stars on booking is all I’m saying,’ he shrugs. It’s too early in the morning and he didn’t exactly get a good night’s sleep. 

‘ _Sander_ ,’ Amber sighs, exasperated.

‘I just don’t understand why we have to clean _now_?’ he says, rolling his eyes at her and proceeding to pour himself a cup of coffee.

‘Because we’re leaving tomorrow morning?’ she frowns, gesturing for him to pick up the tray of empty bottles and cans, ‘And I’m not gonna clean everything when you’re all hungover from the Halloween party tonight. I’m not like mom, okay?’

‘Can you-’ Sander quickly steps towards her, whispering, ‘...lower your _voice_?!’ he tries to sound more assertive and less pleading, eyes searching behind her to see if anyone heard, but the others are thankfully outside, too busy arguing who has to clean the toilets. 

‘It depends, can you-’ she pushes the tray into his arms, ‘...help _cleaning_?!’ she smiles through gritted teeth and he takes the tray reluctantly. 

_‘Fine_.’

Just then, Robbe walks into the kitchen, and Amber circles round to say, ‘Robbe! Good, you can help with-’

‘-Recycling,’ Sander interrupts, without thinking. He looks past Amber and tilts his head to Robbe, who looks remarkably like he wished he stayed in bed.

‘Uh, ok?’ Robbe replies, as Sander walks past him and nods to the other tray of empty bottles. 

‘Yeah fine,’ Amber says, handing the tray to Robbe, ‘But then we need to clean the bedrooms.’

Sander stands on the porch, waiting for Robbe to follow. Once he does, Sander smiles and says, ‘Good night?’

‘Well, Noor got shitfaced, so I spent most of it sitting on the bathroom floor next to her,’ Robbe sighs, and Sander notices that he does look tired. 

‘Pity.’

‘You?’ Robbe asks.

‘Uh, yeah. Fine. The people here are cool, you know? Well, except Amber…’ Sander makes a face, hoping Robbe doesn’t catch on, relieved when he just lets out a little laugh as they round the corner to the recycling bins, hoisting their trays onto a small bench. 

‘Everything going ok with you and Britt? At the bonfire last night, it seemed a little…’ Robbe trails off, trying to avoid offence.

‘Tense?’ Sander offers, ‘Yeah. I don’t know. I feel like we’re going in circles a bit and I don’t know whether to stay or to go. Do you ever find that with Noor?’

Sander’s too nervous for the answer, so he picks up a handful of bottles and dumps them in the bin next to Robbe. 

‘Well, sometimes, I guess,’ Robbe says, fiddling with one of the bottle caps, ‘She can be-’ he stops, adjusts himself. ‘She’s a good alpha,’ Robbe exhales a breath it sounds like he's been holding, back still turned towards him.

Sander lowers his gaze and bites his lip at those words, wishing -- _wanting_ for Robbe to someday say the same thing about him, even if he knows it’s impossible. Slowly, he walks up behind him, carefully reaching around him for another bottle, daring just to get a little bit closer to this omega, _his_ omega, at least in his heart. 

But Robbe startles, taking a few steps away. Maybe it’s just as well, seeing as Sander’s alpha is so present and demanding whenever Robbe is near.

‘I, uh, maybe I would make a list of all the positives and negatives and…’

‘And dump her if there are more negatives?’

Robbe shrugs lightly, unable to keep Sander’s gaze, and his alpha recognizes the silent tension as they both fiddle idly with the bottles, trying to navigate this crackling space between them. But Robbe has a shyness about him that might scare easily. So Sander tries a different tack, repeating the words he’d said to Jens just the day before.

‘I don’t know. Maybe I’m afraid I won’t find anyone. At least no-one who’ll love me.’

Robbe’s fingers falter over the tray, and he seems to consider reaching them out to Sander. ‘I think you’ll meet someone like that,’ Robbe replies, his soft brown eyes mapping Sander’s face.

‘Where?’ Sander asks. He doesn’t even try to keep his eyes from Robbe’s lips. 

Another long moment draws out between them, where Sander keeps his attention rapt on Robbe, and Robbe seems to consider his answer.

‘I don’t know,’ he replies at last, ‘Maybe you should meet new people.’

‘A weekend away with strangers, right?’ Sander chuckles, wondering for a moment if Jens has told Robbe about their talk yesterday.

But what Sander doesn’t expect is how Robbe grows brave in the moment, standing up to his full height, his voice going soft as he says, ‘For example. Yeah.’

And then Robbe’s gaze drops to Sander’s lips, and his alpha stills, shocked into unusual submission. 

Without another thought, he follows his base instincts, and so does Robbe, both of them leaning towards each other, tilting their heads, lips parting and breaths held. Robbe is so close and Sander’s overwhelmed with his scent and the beauty of the tiny freckles on his nose, the flush of sleep still rosy on his cheeks, his alpha desperate, thrilled, _scared_ for the taste of him-

‘Ugh, this organic stuff really stinks,’ some girl’s voice pipes up behind him, _‘Not_ ok,’ she states, and the two jump apart as if she was speaking directly to them. She barely notices them though and quickly turns to head back to the cabin. 

Sander is still holding his breath even after she’s gone, too anxious to look up at Robbe, but then, in a swift move Robbe closes the distance between them, burrowing into him in full force, almost making Sander fall over with the sudden weight of all of Robbe pressed against him, his small hands coming up to Sander’s chest, nose firmly planted in his neck, a quiet moan hidden in his shirt, and before Sander even realizes what is happening, Robbe parts his lips and places a kittenish lick along his scent gland — arousal ripping through Sander like an electric shock, so strong he feels his knees give out under him, then -- just as quickly Robbe steps back and walks away, following where that girl had went, only throwing a small glance back before he rounds the corner. 

And Sander is lost.

**

‘Alphas and omegas against betas!’ Jens announces gleefully next to him as Sander pulls on the paintball suit he got from one of the other guys, whose name he still hasn’t bothered asking. 

‘That’s not fair!’ Jana scowls at him playfully.

Sander is only half-listening. He’s still reeling from being so close to Robbe. They’ve only been at the cabin for a few days but his head is _full_ of the omega, and he doesn’t know how it’s escalated so much, from the first time he smelled that scent, to crawling into a stranger’s sleeping bag, to feeding him, to whatever mysterious omega influence Robbe used on him at the bonfire, to _this morning_. This morning. It was so quick, so full of yearning, that Sander wonders if it was even real, how Robbe just plastered himself to Sander’s body and--

He can’t think about it. It’s too recent, his body is still alight. His alpha can’t decide whether to roar or whine. He just _wants_.

‘Alright, alphas against betas _and_ omegas, then’ Jens suggests instead, and Sander is jolted back into the present.

‘That wouldn’t really make any difference, now would it?’ Britt chimes in and Sander has to fight back an urge to roll his eyes at her.

‘Isn’t that a little sexist?’ Jana asks, laughing nervously.

‘I mean, I don’t care about the game,’ she shrugs, ‘I just don’t think Zoë and Robbe-- ugh _nevermind_ ,’ she shrugs, clearly not wanting to go into yet another argument about alpha and omega politics. 

‘Ok then,’ Jens says, making a quick _yikes_ face at Robbe, who smirks back, ‘alphas against omegas and betas -- that’s me, Sander and Noor against well, everyone.’ he smiles.

The group splits into their opposing teams, quickly sizing each other up as they all finish putting on their protective gear.

‘Omegas and betas, you get a five minute head start,’ Jens explains, ‘and then alphas will roll out. Only rules are: one visible hit on your body and you’re out; no paint-balling outside the boundary checks; and the goal is for each team to eliminate every member of the other team. The first to do so wins glory forever, and the losers have to buy takeout tonight.’

Everyone breaks into a triumphant roar, and Jens fistbumps with Robbe before joining the alpha team. 

‘Omegas and betas - _go!_ ’ he yells, and the six scatter up and over the dunes. Jens looks at his watch and turns to Sander.

‘You wanna make this game a bit more interesting?’ he asks, out of earshot of anyone else.

‘How so?’ Sander replies, trying to ignore the scent of alpha concern radiating from Noor. He knows she’s a cool girl, but her attachment to Robbe only causes him annoyance.

‘Let’s make a wager. First to take out 3, wins - we can use a text to timestamp it,’ Jens suggests quietly, cockiness exuding from his confident smile.

‘What are the stakes?’ 

‘A full night in the double bedroom.’

Sander scoffs and then sees Jens is absolutely serious. 

‘But I already _have_ the double bedroom,’ Sander replies, smiling. ‘What’s in it for me?’

‘Exactly,’ Jens says, _whispers_ , ‘I’m saying - if you win, I make sure you get _uninterrupted_ use of that room, and if I win, you do the same for me. Alpha’s honour.’

‘Alphas don’t have any honour,’ Sander huffs.

‘Well it’s time we changed that,’ Jens replies. ‘Are you in?’

He extends his hand for a shake. Sander looks at it, and then at him. 

‘Who’s your target then?’ 

‘Ah. That’s the beauty of alpha’s honour in this wager,’ Jens says. ‘You don’t ask me any questions about my intentions; I don’t ask about yours.’ 

Jens raises an eyebrow at Sander and glances in the direction that Robbe ran, and Sander knows, deep down, that Jens sees right through him. He’s momentarily speechless, but then Jens steps a little closer and says, ‘No judgement, man. I’m just in a position to help two people out with one move, or get some privacy for myself. It’s a win-win for me. Plus I like games.’

Holding Jens’ gaze, Sander shakes his hand. ‘Deal.’

With a quick glance at his watch, Jens raises his hand to signal to the two alphas that time is up, and then points in the directions the omegas and betas ran, to silently direct them to head out.

Sander sees Jens immediately run in the direction Jana went in, not sure about Noor, maybe Amber, maybe Robbe. Sander has to choose between tracking down Jens’ friends - Moyo and Aaron? he thinks - or cutting Noor off ahead of time, just in case.

It’s not even a choice, he realizes, as he sprints after Noor. As he gets over the peak of the dune, though, he hears a paintball whizz past him, and he drops onto the sand, suddenly remembering there are other people on this beach besides him and Robbe. 

He hears a familiar guffaw and realizes it’s the two goons who hang out with Robbe and Jens. Crawling on his elbows and knees, holding his paintball gun in front of him, he finds cover in some marram grass and lies low. He hears paint pellets being launched and finding their targets, random cries and shouts, footsteps running through sand, and he decides to find a sniper position, and take out the betas from safe isolation.

He crawls through the marram grass to the far side of the dune, and spots Amber and Britt hidden (or so they think) behind a sand bank, whispering urgently, facing Jana, who thinks she’s slinking through cover too. He smirks to himself, digs down into the sand to fully hide, and then shoots first Britt, then Amber. When they both scream, he ducks down, careful not to make a sound. They stand up and turn around, looking up to try and find out who took them out, and bring Jana into it, who admits she didn’t see anyone. 

Then another beta follows the noise, and Jana yells at Britt and Amber to get out of the firing zone before she runs into hiding. Sander waits to hear them all go before he leaves his hide-out.

Crawling again, over to another side of the dune, he soon spots Robbe, crouched on the top of a dune nearby, trying to hide in the marram grass like a frightened rabbit and almost succeeding. Sander stops, rests on his arms, and realizes he doesn’t really want to shoot Robbe. Even if it would be a third victim to fill his wager with Jens and therefore a guaranteed night in the double bedroom, fantasy though it may be, _with Robbe_ \- still not sure how he would even get away with that with Britt in the house. But he can’t. His growing protectiveness forcing him to just stay there, on the ground, watching him.

Just then, he feels someone roll into him, hard, from the top of the dune.

‘Hey,’ Noor pants, ‘got anyone yet?’

‘Amber and Britt,’ he whispers back. ‘And I’m about to get Robbe, so-’ he lies.

‘Not if I get him first,’ she grins, getting back up and running towards Robbe with her paintball gun raised.

Sander doesn’t even think about it. He gets up onto his knees and aims. Fires. Noor stops, looks at the paint on her side and back to Sander, raising her arms and yelling, ‘What the _fuck_ , man?!’ 

But he can’t stop. He shoots her again. And again. And again. Until he’s out of pellets.

She screams, ‘ _Stop!_ Shit, Sander-- what is _wrong_ with you?’ Then she turns around and yells to Robbe, ‘Aren’t you going to fucking _help_ me?’ 

Robbe stands as Sander takes his mask off, suddenly aware of what’s just happened. 

Noor lifts her visor and shouts at Sander, ‘Fuck you, man! What were you _thinking_?’ then looks to Robbe, who hasn’t moved from his spot, and she screams, ‘Oh, never mind, fucking stay where you are! _Jesus_.’

Speechless, Sander watches her storm off, down the dune. Robbe quietly begins walking towards him.

In his pocket, Sander’s phone pings. When he takes out his phone, he sees it’s a text from Jens: _I got hit. Did you get 3 yet?_

Sander puts his phone away again, his interest in the bet fading now Robbe is so close, his brain now trying to come up with a believable excuse why he shot his _own_ team member instead.

Robbe takes off his mask, and holds it under his arm. He looks after Noor and then to Sander, who glances back at him, unsure what to say. They stand in silence for a moment, the sea calm as it heaves on the shore. Sander takes a deep breath, finding solace in the salty sea spray, and Robbe’s scent next to him. 

‘I think your girlfriend is mad at you,’ Sander observes.

After a brief pause, Robbe shrugs. ‘I think you won,’ he huffs out a laugh. 

Sander does the same.

  
  


**

  
  


It’s nearly midnight. The whole crew are at the nearest night club, still giddy and high from paint-balling and pre-drinks. Noor has mellowed out a bit from being shot by Sander repeatedly, and the hope that maybe he’s driven a wedge between her and Robbe has faded slightly.

Still, he’s enjoying himself so far. He always liked dressing up, and something about everyone being in costume makes him feel more comfortable with all his lies. Everything is a fucking performance anyway, Halloween is just one of the few nights in the year where people appreciate it.

Britt’s mellowed out a bit too, with at least two rounds of shots in her system, and she wraps her arms around Sander and whispers, ‘You look really hot tonight,’ in the voice that’s actually her own, not the one she uses when she wants something. She means it. 

Sander smiles at her and takes this moment for what it is. ‘So do you,’ he replies, honestly, and pulls playfully at her space buns. She giggles and gets up on her tiptoes for a kiss. He enjoys this one, innocent and cute as it is, and savours how real it can be with Britt sometimes. Just sometimes.

Then Jana and that other girl, Luca, run over and drag Britt away from him, screaming something about pictures and he huffs, still happy from the kiss, and takes out his tobacco, skins and filters to roll himself a cigarette. He leans up against the spray-painted wall, tipping tobacco into the skin, and then hears Noor’s voice, squealing, _‘Robbe!’_

He glances up and sees her pull Robbe over to the wall perpendicular to him, and then sees her take out a can of spray paint and write ‘R + N’ inside a heart. The image makes Sander’s hackles rise and he can’t help the glare he sends at Noor. The most primal part of his alpha wants to march over there and pin Robbe to the wall, rendering Noor irrelevant, and painting over that stupid heart with Robbe’s cum. 

He flinches at the violence of his own thoughts and reigns in some of his misplaced rage. He was so calm a few minutes ago, and just the visual of Noor and Robbe together somehow threw him into a blind fury? Checking his scent glands, he realizes they’re slick and inflamed. _Fuck_ , he thinks. Maybe a rut is coming on after all.

Before he can leave to smoke his cigarette, Britt appears with two neon-green shots, and smiles up at him. He mourns again for the fact that as a beta she can’t scent him, she can’t tell he’s angry or lonely or upset, all she sees is the fake blood on his face and the dark shadows around his eyes. 

‘Drink?’ she says, joyfully, and Sander capitulates, not wanting to break this brief moment of peace. So they toast to health and down the shots. 

Without thinking, Sander puts the cigarette in his pocket and nuzzles into Britt, wishing against hope that she were an omega who could take care of him. Instead she hugs him, maybe sensing his hurt on some level, and then he takes hold of her waist, pulling her into a kiss. He tries to forget everything else, everything at home, everything at school, everything in his head, that fucking R+N, and just lets Britt grind up on him on the dance floor. 

Then, he scents it. At first it’s a bitter kind of resentment, or sadness, and he wonders if his alpha is letting his feelings stink up the entire club, until he realizes it’s very definitely _omega_ jealousy. A perfect mirror of his own. 

He cracks open an eye to let his alpha figure out whose it is and he immediately sees Robbe’s eyes looking back at him over Noor’s shoulder. 

Sander closes his eyes, unsure he saw right, and guilty that he would ignore Britt like this. But he’s assaulted again with the overpowering scent of omega jealousy and desire, and his alpha roars inside. So he opens his eyes again.

Robbe is on the couch, kissing Noor, but his eyes are dark as they penetrate Sander’s gaze, retributive latent anger and lust obvious in his expression. Sander’s alpha licks its teeth. He kisses Britt more, letting Robbe see his tongue, daring him to want it. Robbe refuses to stop, and makes sure Sander does not look away.

He feels the electric trip wire of their connection catch him up, and he knows they’ve crossed a line now they can’t un-cross. But the more Sander makes it clear to Robbe that he wants him, the more Sander knows he doesn’t want to go back. He _can’t_ go back now. He glares at Robbe, his alpha growing, _growling,_ for his omega, _his_ omega, _his omega,_ and he just _knows_ now Robbe’s omega is wet for his alpha, _his_ alpha, _his alpha_.

‘Shit, I’m sorry. I can’t do this.’ 

Britt’s eyes widen in surprise as Sander pulls back, suddenly dizzy with the nauseating neon lights and the screaming sounds surrounding him, all his senses heightened to the point of being painful and he needs to get out of there, _has_ to get out of there, before he does something he’ll regret. 

He runs out of the youth club and sprints towards the beach, _wheezing_ , wild with want and an overwhelming need to bond, to _breed_ , to burn all bridges behind him for this one boy, a surge of possessiveness building inside him so rapidly it feels like he’s about to burst. 

Too consumed with his own oncoming rut to notice the light footsteps behind him, the quiet calling, as he makes his way down through the sand dunes to the shore, rips off his jacket and t-shirt, the cool breeze from the ocean doing little to ease the fire raging inside him and he wants to _scream_ , shoes quickly soaked through as he steps into the water, walking out to about mid-waist, the waves gently licking at his sides, quiet and cool enough to calm him down to breathe a sigh of relief -- and that’s when he hears it, sweet and luring like a siren summoning him.

‘Ground control to Major Tom...’ 

He turns around, and he finds Robbe, smiling, standing no more than six feet away from him, water up to his knees.

‘I thought you didn’t really know Bowie,’ Sander says, smiling despite himself, torn between wanting to push Robbe away for his own good, and to pull him in and never let go.

‘I didn’t,’ Robbe takes a step closer, ‘But I do now.’

Sander tries to back away but Robbe follows him. ‘You can’t be here--’ 

‘I don’t want to be anywhere else.’

The breath catches in Sander’s throat. Robbe takes another step forward, the water swishing loudly around his legs.

Pressure and misery starts to weigh on Sander again, now he’s really faced with everything he wants, and remembers why he can’t have it. He crumples in on himself, and brokenly says, ‘I’m-- I’m going into rut, Robbe, you shouldn’t--’

Robbe hushes him and walks up close, finding Sander’s waist in the water, and Sander can’t think of what he was going to say.

All sounds seem to fade to nothing, save for the gentle lapping of water around them and their own stilted breaths. Robbe looks as flushed as Sander feels, and he clutches Sander’s waist firm, looking up at him under his eyelashes, just _looking_. But Sander feels it like Robbe is seeing into him, seeing past all his highest defenses and thorniest exteriors. He chokes out a sigh, leaning into this intimacy, resting his forehead against Robbe’s and closing his eyes. Robbe circles his arms around Sander’s waist and a wash of his scent, his sweet homely warm scent, fills Sander’s senses. 

‘We shouldn’t…’ Sander says, hoping against hope that Robbe will ignore him.

‘Does it feel like we shouldn’t?’ Robbe asks, his eyes focused on Sander’s lips. 

Sander knows what the right thing to do is. He knows. 

His alpha knows too, but all his alpha wants is to bury into Robbe’s neck and stay there, wrapped in his scent and his arms and his soft omega warmth, soothing and heated, and hopefully touching him until he’s panting and primed and just this side of desperate.

But he listens to Robbe’s question, echoing around him, throughout him, inside him. _Does it feel like we shouldn’t? Does it feel like we shouldn’t? Does it feel like we shouldn’t?_ And there’s only one answer.

‘All the way or no way, eh?’ Sander moans, before taking hold of Robbe’s face, fingers tangled in his hair as he tilts it up to meet him, tasting his omega for the very first time. 

***


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovelies! 💕  
> Here we are again with another chapter for you! We weren’t supposed to post already but after a night of hc’ing probably the fluffiest smut any of us have ever written lol Z did their thingghhnhffkskflskgkdlxl  
> ... and since we could all use some extra tlc these days we decided to post early 💗
> 
> Please leave a kudos or a comment if you enjoyed 🙏

***

When his alarm goes off the next morning, Sander is already awake. He couldn’t sleep, not that he tried to. Afraid that if he closed his eyes, it would all have been a dream. Robbe’s soft lips on his, gently exploring his taste. His warm mouth, inviting and infinitely sweet as they both breathed a sigh of relief at the first real touch. His delicate hands, searching up the outline of Sander’s arms, clinging tightly to his shoulders, shivering—

 _‘You’re freezing,’_ Sander had whispered into Robbe’s hair. He couldn’t feel the cold himself.

 _‘I’m in freezing cold water, so yeah,’_ Robbe had teased back, pulling Sander closer and whispering against his neck, _‘But I still wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.’_

It had been hard to get out of the water - wet clothes and heavy concerns about the future dragging their steps - and even harder to convince a cab driver to take them back to the beach house completely soaked through. But nothing had been harder than letting go of Robbe’s hand as they walked to the house, yellow light streaming out from the windows as a warning sign that someone had returned early from the club too. 

_‘Tomorrow at 6?’_ Sander had whispered and Robbe had nodded silently as he opened the door to an array of questions and _what the fuck_ ’s from Luca and a concerned Zoë fixing them both towels and drying off Robbe’s wet hair. Thankfully the rest had still been at the club.

But now, Sander quickly silences the alarm, then turns over to look at Britt. She’s still asleep, the early morning light from the window playing on her face. She looks peaceful, sweet even, and Sander gently brushes a strand of hair away from her face. He doesn’t want to hurt her, but he can’t stay either, everything inside him drawn to something else — to that door, outside, to a boy, an omega, so strong it feels like it’s calling his name. And in his mind, Sander is calling his name too. _Robbe_.

He rolls out of bed as quietly as he can, puts on the clean pair of jeans and the sweater he left on the chair, ties up his Docs, and steps out, glancing across the hallway to the other bedroom to see Robbe stepping out of his bedroom, too. Miraculously, everyone else is still asleep.

Sander unplugs his phone charger, zips up his backpack, and heads out to the kitchen, Robbe following closely behind.

‘The train is at 6.30, we should still be fine for time,’ Robbe whispers, and Sander turns to face him, putting them far too close together for just friends. But Sander can’t tell him to move away.

‘I feel like I’m sneaking out of detention,’ Sander whispers back, unable to repress a giggle. 

Robbe smiles, then glances down to Sander’s lips, and leans in for another kiss. But Sander puts a finger to his neck and moves to the side. ‘Whoa there, we’re not out of the danger zone yet,’ he says, walking towards the door.

‘Allee, kom,’ he nods and Robbe rolls his eyes and sneaks out after Sander, the two running giddily over the sand dunes.

‘We have twenty-one minutes to get to the train on time. Then, we’re free.’

  
  


**

  
  


On the nearly empty train, Robbe insists on a window seat, stretching his legs out towards the aisle. Sander laughs and sits next to him anyway, pulling Robbe’s knees up on top of his thighs.

‘Sander!’ Robbe protests, ‘someone might see.’

‘So?’ Sander shrugs and leans in, his alpha craving for the kiss he’s been waiting for all morning, all night. ‘We’re beautiful aren’t we?’ he whispers against Robbe’s lips and closes the distance.

Robbe tastes so good, so warm and sweet and buttery, his scent washing over Sander like a heatwave, and Sander knows his own alpha scent is about to clog up the entire carriage, but he doesn’t care. He grasps hold of Robbe’s waist with one hand to pull him closer, the other hand coming up to cup Robbe’s face as he licks along his perfect lips, and he has to fight back a growl at the back of his throat. Robbe’s kisses are nourishing in a way he can’t quite explain, like a drop of water on dried up soil, and Sander is lapping it up. 

It’s not quite enough, though, because the call of Robbe’s scent is too loud, and it feels like Sander’s been waiting all his life for this. 

‘Is it ok if I--’ he asks, quietly, suddenly a little shy and desperate.

Robbe nods, a little shy too, and tilts his head back slightly, baring his neck just enough to give access. Moaning softly, Sander surrenders to it and buries his face in Robbe’s throat, nosing at the scent gland, loving how Robbe pulls him closer by the fist in his hair, his fingers trembling slightly as he parts his lips and drags his tongue along the flushed skin there.

His breathing is hot and heavy but nothing compared to Robbe’s now, who gasps and arches his back, encouraging Sander to touch him more. Sander is drowning in his scent, delighted and overwhelmed at the way it envelops him, seeming to claim him as Robbe’s own.

Suddenly, Sander realises, his right hand has moved down to Robbe’s thigh, edging towards where his scent is strongest, and Robbe spreads his legs the tiniest bit, kissing Sander’s cheek to let him know he wants it too.

‘Can I touch you here?’ Sander exhales as his hands inches closer to the inside of Robbe’s thigh, gently, but a little teasing. ‘And on the train, too?’ and Robbe nods his head.

‘Just be careful,’ he whispers, eyes searching behind Sander for a moment, checking that no one is there and tilts his hip up a little. Without another word, Sander slides his hand up Robbe’s leg and finds the place that makes him fight back a whine, damp through his trousers, and starts to circle it slowly, caress it. 

Robbe’s eyes roll back in his head, and his scent explodes over Sander, eased out of him with something close to sex, and Sander kisses Robbe possessively, licks into his mouth and swallows up every whimper, every quiet plea, thrilled and nervous and entirely indifferent to anything that isn’t this, here, _now_.

  
  


**

They get into Antwerp just after 8, and their phones beep madly with messages from everyone they bailed on back at the beach house. Sander tells Britt and Amber separately that he had to rush home to get his rut inhibitors. Robbe tells the Broerrrs that he had a family emergency.

In reality, the two are running back to Robbe’s apartment to smoke weed and escape the rest. They kiss as they get on the tram, and Sander’s phone buzzes again with a new message on Insta from Britt.

  
  


_Britt (08:33)_

You could have told me you were leaving  
I would have gone with you  
Like, why did you tell Robbe and not me?  
I’m your girlfriend

  
  


He frowns at the phone as he holds onto the ceiling rail, and Robbe leans into his shoulder.

‘Why is Amber the only other person besides Britt that you’re connected to on Instagram?’ Robbe asks sleepily. ‘When I added you this morning it said those were our only two mutual friends.’

Sander bristles and then softens, taking in a deep breath of omega sweetness. ‘I know her through Britt. They’ve become kind of inseparable.’

They stand there in silence for a few moments, as the tram shunts through Antwerp in the early morning sunshine, increasingly filling up with people on their way to work. Hearing himself out loud, Sander says, ‘I should break up with her.’

Robbe pulls back and looks up at him, evidently surprised at this announcement. 

‘I don’t want to lie to her,’ Sander murmurs. ‘Not anymore.’

‘I broke up with Noor this morning,’ Robbe replies.

‘You did?’ Sander asks surprised.

‘Yeah. I left her a note on the pillow.’

‘Sucky morning for her,’ Sander huffs out a laugh.

‘I’m not her only omega,’ Robbe says, ‘but I know it’ll hit her hard anyway.’

‘Are you ok?’ Sander asks, his protective streak jumping to the fore.

Winding his arms around Sander’s waist again, Robbe nods and leaves a kiss on his neck, burrowing back into his alpha and Sander can’t help but scent him right there, on the tram, despite the judging looks of an older omega across from them. Then he opens his chat history with Britt and writes,

  
  


_Britt (08:47)_

We should talk when you get back  
For now I need to say I’m sorry, but  
this isn’t working. Not anymore  
  


  
  


He sends it and turns his phone off entirely, feeling a great weight lift off his shoulders. While texting her was not the most humane break-up, he knew it needed to happen now. 

Suddenly Robbe purrs into his collar, and Sander hides his shock, only to realize that Robbe is responding to his alpha scenting him, finally relaxing and being content.

‘That’s nice,’ Sander whispers. 

His heart jumps when Robbe purrs a little louder, just for him. It moves through him like music, and he holds his omega that bit closer, holding Robbe’s shoulders under one arm and pulling him in.

He noses Robbe’s hair and scents him again, just because he wants to, because he likes it. And he loves how Robbe’s hair smells when he scents him. Something in between sea salt and wood smoke, but softer, _warmer_. Sander hides his face in Robbe’s hair and kind of wishes the bus would never stop.

  
  


**

  
  


Robbe’s apartment is not what Sander expected. Somehow he anticipated that it would be smaller, darker, more like a fox den than a real flatshare. But Robbe leads him inside, holding his hand, and takes him down a hallway into a bright room with a bay window. Sander drops his bag next to the desk and glances out the window, but Robbe just pulls him away and drags him down onto the bed, legs wrapped around Sander’s waist.

‘Eager to nest, are we?’ Sander jokes, and Robbe rolls his eyes, leaning up for a kiss.

‘ _Snoepje!_ You’re home!’ the bedroom door flies open with a clatter, and a loud voice interrupts them.

‘Milan! The door was closed for a reason!’ Robbe yells and pushes Sander over, running a hand through his hair, clearly a little embarrassed.

Turning his head, Sander looks up at the intruder, a tall brunette with one dangling earring, leaning against the doorframe in a pink apron. 

‘Hi,’ Sander says and gets up off the bed, offering his hand, ‘I’m Sander.’

‘Milan,’ he replies and takes Sander’s hand, ‘My god, you— you smell _good_ ,’ Milan sends Robbe an approving look.

 _‘Off_ , Milan!’ Robbe steps in between them, but Sander can tell he’s still smiling and he can’t help but laugh at Robbe’s newfound possessiveness at Milan’s appreciative gaze.

Another voice from the hallway emerges and Milan ducks his head around the doorframe to call, ‘Senne! Come, meet Robbe’s _liefje_. His name is Sander.’

‘Oh,’ Milan adds, looking back to Robbe with a slight frown, ‘but what about that other gorgeous alpha, Noo-’

‘Hey,’ another tall brunette, _alpha_ , interrupts him from the hallway, handsome and quiet as he stands next to Milan and glances to Robbe, then Sander. A sudden possessiveness wells up inside Sander but the scent in the air is more fatherly than anything and the shift in Robbe’s scent, _trust_ , eases the tension between them.

‘Hey,’ Sander offers and the other alpha quickly reads the room. 

‘Seems like we’re interrupting something, Milan,’ he smiles and nods at Sander.

‘Nonsense, Senne! Robbe’s just observing polite etiquette and introducing his house guest to his flatmates, aren’t you Robbe?’ Milan tilts his head and smiles.

‘Yes, and now you’re introduced, you can politely fuck off,’ Robbe says, gallantly, showing Milan and Senne towards the hallway.

‘But I wanna talk to you!’ Milan shouts over his shoulder, as Robbe pushes the door closed on them, and snips the lock.

‘He’s like a fucking babysitter with how he monitors me, I swear,’ Robbe mutters as Sander walks back to the bed. 

‘The omega or the uhm-’ Sander clears his throat, reaching out an arm to guide him to sit on his lap, ‘...the alpha?’ 

‘Both to be honest,’ Robbe sighs as he sits on Sander’s lap, and clearly sensing the momentary change in Sander’s scent, he adds, ‘Senne is Zoë’s alpha, they’re gonna mate soon I just know it. But Milan-’ Robbe sighs, exasperated.

‘They care about you, it’s nice,’ Sander smiles, teasing his nose up along Robbe’s neck again.

‘Let’s not talk a-about Milan wh-when you… _fuck-_ do that…’

‘Alright,’ Sander smirks, quickly flipping them over and Robbe’s eyes widen, his legs opening in invitation under him and Sander crawls up between them. But instead of leaning down to kiss Robbe, he continues to crawl up Robbe’s torso and over his shoulder and further on until he’s sitting all the way at the other end of the bed. 

‘I wanna hear more about your flatmates, so. Stay where you are, and tell me,’ he smiles at Robbe who grimaces from where he’s lying abandoned on his back, grumpy now Sander has put distance between them. 

_‘Fine_ ,’ he huffs and Sander chuckles. 

‘Zoë you already know, Senne is Zoë’s boyfriend, and Milan is a bartender in Zurenborg, can you come back here now?’

Sander just smirks at him and shakes his head. ‘How did you meet them?’

‘Ugh!’ Robbe sighs and turns over on his stomach, falling head-first into the duvet. ‘Why are you _torturing_ me.’

Laughing, Sander replies, ‘Just tell me how you ended up in this flatshare.'

Robbe slowly sits back up and Sander can sense the hesitation in his scent, like Robbe’s still unsure he can truly trust him. It’s not like Sander can blame him. 

‘Uhm Zoë...’ Robbe sighs, ‘Zoë goes to KAB too. She’s in some of my classes. Plus, she’s friends with Jana, who kind of used to be my best friend, when she was still dating Jens.’

‘Ah, so you all go to KAB,’ Sander says, ‘and how-’

‘Yes!’ Robbe groans, interrupting him. ‘Anything else you wanna know? My mother’s maiden name and blood type?’

Sander grins at him and leans forward onto his hands, sensing he’s pushed Robbe as far as he will go this time, slowly crawling along the bed, circling in on him, until he’s crowding over Robbe again, pinning him to the mattress with just his intentions.

‘I think that’s good for now,’ he whispers, before kissing Robbe, much like he wants to eat him and Robbe welcomes it, his groans turning into a quiet whimper as Sander sucks his lower lip in between his teeth.

Robbe smells more _intense_ in his nest, and Sander’s not sure if it’s because he’s surrounded by Robbe’s things or because there’s something in Robbe’s scent that’s amplified, but it feels so good, so _safe_ , to lie here curled around each other, like he was never meant to be anywhere else.

Robbe pulls him even closer, silently pushing for more, his hands all over Sander, his eyes closed and his breath heavy.

‘Are you still going into rut?’ Robbe whispers, keen and panting.

‘N-no, I don’t know, I don’t think so,’ Sander replies, kissing him and trying not to lose control of his alpha’s impulses.

‘I.. I’m—’ Robbe sighs, rolling to straddle Sander and pin him to the bed.

‘Whoa,’ Sander warns, ‘what are you up to now-’

‘I think- uhm,’ Robbe blushes, hands running up Sander’s chest, ‘My heat shouldn’t be coming for another couple of weeks, but I’m- I think I might be going into pre-heat,’ he admits, hiding his face in his hands, ‘This weekend has been... I just- I can’t think, I can’t- I can’t stop- All I think about is how much I want you to bite me.’

Sander’s body freezes. 

The arousal comes to a screeching halt. 

His mouth goes dry. His heart races. 

His eyes well up with tears.

It takes Robbe a moment to recognise the change, and when he does, he pulls back immediately, apologizing. 

Sander stares, unseeing, through the ceiling, and Robbe quickly rolls off him completely, gently asking, ‘Are you alright? Sander, are you alright?’

The words take a few minutes to get through to him, as he grounds himself, breathing through the elevated heart rate, the slight nausea, the urge to cry.

‘Do you know that feeling,’ he asks distantly, ‘where you sometimes think - why is it that I’m thinking what I’m thinking?’ His breath is still stuck in his throat as he continues, ‘Where you go back in your memories, step by step, and how you went from one to the other, and then you think why is it like this? Why did it have to be like this? Why am _I_ like this?’

Robbe curls his fingers through Sander’s fringe and gently brushes it back from his face, again and again, like a lullaby. 

‘It’s normal,’ he replies, quietly, ‘Our brains are hardwired that way. We make sense of things by relating them to something that’s already familiar. The problem comes when we have associations that are built on fear… or shame. Then our thoughts spiral. And we think we’re right because everything seems like a foregone conclusion. But it’s not.’ 

Sander takes a deep centring breath and shakes his head. ‘Some things _are_ a foregone conclusion. Some things are fated.’

Leaning down, Robbe leaves a gentle kiss on the hand Sander’s draped across his own chest. ‘Maybe so. But, this is only _one_ universe. There are billions, countless billions - eternal - parallel universes where the same number of ourselves are making different decisions. It’s a whole constellation of fates - and in that sense, fate is both everything and nothing. We’re just doing our best. Noone can judge us for that.’

Sander softens and looks up at Robbe, and temporarily forgets his anxieties and insecurities. He reaches his hands up and cups Robbe’s face, caressing his thumbs along Robbe’s cheekbones. 

‘Stay there,’ he whispers, and then rolls off the bed and goes to his backpack.

‘I wish I could see you, memorize you, in every universe—‘ he smiles, takes out his camera from his bag and turns around, ‘but I guess this one universe is a start’ 

‘No, put that away!’ Robbe protests, shy in front of the lens, and Sander sits on the bed next to him, laughing, aiming the camera right at him, ‘What? Looks like you’re posing for me--’

‘Sander!’ Robbe paws at him.

‘Smile, baby.’

‘Put the camera away!’

‘You’re so hot, though.’

‘ _Sander_ , seriously-’

‘Ok fine let’s take one together,’ Sander concedes, lying across Robbe’s chest and pointing the camera down at them both, sticking his tongue out and taking a photo of _this_ moment, in _this_ universe, knowing he’ll remember how Robbe soothed him without even knowing how much he needed it.

Robbe laughs, and curls his hands through Sander’s hair and then, out of the blue, Sander feels teeth at his ear, and Robbe gently pulls at it, whispering, ‘Will you lie on top of me again?’

Dropping the camera on the bed, Sander turns his head and looks at Robbe, pupils dilated and scent spiking. He recognises the signs and smiles, obliging at once, rolling between Robbe’s legs and crowding over him, glancing his nose off his omega’s and feeling his mouth water in anticipation.

Robbe closes his eyes, and hides his faces in Sander’s neck and Sander feels an overwhelming urge, a _need_ even, to protect him, curling his hand around the back of Robbe’s head and quietly asks him if he’s ok. With a sigh, Robbe nods. Into Sander’s skin, he admits, ‘Everything is still so early... but I feel like I’m going to explode. And I don’t- I don’t want to be like that in front of you, not _yet_. But I also just really want you to touch me-’

Cutting himself off, he shrinks into Sander’s collar, and Sander hushes him. ‘Hey, look at me. Look at me, Robbe.’

Slowly, with a deep breath, Robbe lays back on the pillow and looks up at Sander, his deep brown eyes squinting slightly. He’s self-conscious, a little embarrassed, and Sander leans in, teasing him with almost-kisses to ease the tension. 

Robbe tilts up to meet him, but Sander keeps pulling back and grinning. After a little while of this, where Sander continually denies him, Robbe rolls his eyes and mutters, ‘You fucking ass.’

‘ _Nee_ ,’ Sander says, smiling with great self-satisfaction. 

‘I’m lying here, dying, and you’re making fun of me!’

‘I’m not making fun of you. I’m enjoying how shy and desperate you are for it.’

A flash of something passes over Robbe’s expression. All at once he’s solemn and unsure again, and Sander frowns, waiting for Robbe to speak.

‘I shouldn’t have talked about biting already. That was too much. I’m sorry,’ Robbe whispers, his eyes now fixed on Sander’s throat, unable to make eye contact.

 _What a sweet boy_ , Sander thinks. ‘It’s ok,’ he says, running his fingers through Robbe’s hair and tugging gently. ‘It’s really ok. It’s what you like. You can’t help it.’

Robbe squirms slightly, clearly trying to hold back the way his eyes roll back and his back arches a little.

‘Oh,’ Sander says, freezing his hand. ‘Is it the hair pulling or the talking?’ he smirks.

‘Both’ Robbe replies with a small smile and opens his eyes. His face softens as he gazes up at Sander, and he leans up for another kiss. Sander can feel his heart burst, and he rests all his weight on Robbe, freeing his hands to keep pulling gently at Robbe’s hair, his tongue licking into Robbe’s mouth.

‘Can I maybe just be close to you like this for a little bit?’ Robbe asks against his lips, breathless.

Sander is about to nod when suddenly he smells -- oh, fuck, he smells _everything_ \-- and--

‘What is that?’ he groans, his body shivering at the scent of it, his eyes closing of their own accord -- he’s too overstimulated to process visuals too, it’s all _scent_ right now and that’s when his alpha intuits what it is, and he can’t help how it reacts.

‘Robbe, are you… are you wet?’

Robbe whimpers quietly and spreads his legs by instinct, and that’s when Sander can really smell it, the overwhelming earthy hot scent of Robbe’s omega presenting, _asking_ for Sander to notice. 

‘C-can I touch myself?’ Robbe asks, panting, shy, his hand already sneaking down to the lining of his pants. Sander offers, ‘You can use my hand, if you like,’ sliding his own hand under Robbe’s shaking palm.

In response, Robbe makes a high-pitched noise Sander hasn’t heard before and moves Sander’s hand down to where it’s hardest. As soon as Sander touches him there, even through the fabric of his pants, Robbe sighs, lays out his free arm above his head, and groans _yes_ in a voice Sander wants to _record_. 

He’s barely touching him yet, featherlight and careful, and yet Robbe is so soft and hard and _sweet_ in Sander’s hand, the rest of his body writhing in the sheets, slipping further and further into pleasure.

Sander quickly, efficiently, takes off the rest of Robbe’s clothes, except his t-shirt and briefs, and strips down to his own briefs too, loving the feeling of Robbe’s naked legs against his own. The heat in the room is just this side of too much now, and he wants to have Robbe’s scent at its source. He wants it _all_. He wants to bathe in it.

‘Fuck,’ Robbe chants, over and over again, as he presses Sander hand against him, ‘I- _fuck_ …’

But when Robbe covers his face with his hands, though, Sander stops, and quickly checks in with him. ‘Hey - Robbe, baby, did I go too fast?’

Robbe groans and then looks up at Sander, ‘No- I- I’ve never done this before, sorry. I don’t know if this is- if I’m-’

‘Shh..’ Sander reassures him. ‘Just do what feels good, it’s ok.’

Robbe takes a deep breath and bites his lip, moves his feet closer on the bed, and reaches for Sander, whispering, ‘I just don’t know what I’m doing--’

Taking hold of Robbe’s hardness through the soft fabric of his brief, Sander gazes down at him, asking, ‘Does my hand feel good? Yeah?’

Robbe, breathless and moaning, just sighs out, ‘Yeah,’ his body relaxing with an exhale.

‘Then you’re doing everything right, baby,’ Sander says, nudging Robbe’s legs open further with his knees. Robbe moves Sander’s hand inside his briefs to wrap around him, and Sander drinks up Robbe’s moans like they’re manna from heaven. And they are.

‘You sound delicious,’ Sander moans, speeding up his hand, matching his pace to whatever makes Robbe’s face go slack, ‘And you look even better,’ he gasps, realising now with a terrible need how hard he is himself, how desperately he wants his omega, how loud his alpha is keening for it. He’s never felt this way before, and he never wants it to end.

Robbe lifts his knees and holds them around Sander’s waist, spreading his scent even further, and Sander feels like he might choke on it - happily. It’s all he wants to smell for the rest of his existence. And it’s then, while he looks down at Robbe’s thighs to revel in the sight of his scent glands slick and flushed, that he realises Robbe’s holding his own knees up and open. Fully presenting. To his alpha.

Sander can’t stop his automatic response. His blood rushes to his head, his arms shake, and he groans, ‘Fuck, you’re such a good omega, baby.’ 

Immediately Robbe replies with a high whisper, so quiet Sander almost misses it.

‘I’m-- I’m your good omega...’

But his alpha hears it, like it’s been waiting for it his entire _life_ , and he drops his head to tug on Robbe’s ear with his teeth, brokenly sighing, ‘Yes you are, you are, you are, you are-’

They grind together wordlessly, their scents spiking and filling the small room, sweat trickling into the sheets, breaths fast and short, throats dry from moaning and keening for each other’s touch. And that’s when Robbe asks Sander- 

‘Will you-- I want your fingers. I need- I wanna come so badly and I just--’

‘I’ve been _waiting_ for you to ask,’ Sander says, kissing his neck. 

He leans in even closer, and moves his hand further down, as slowly as he can manage, between Robbe’s thighs, caressing up, following the heat to where Robbe is at his most open.

The moment, the glorious moment that Sander touchesRobbe's soft omega pussy for the first time, he loses his breath. He drops his head and moans, ‘Oh god- oh god Robbe have you-- you’re so _wet_ , have you been this wet the whole time? Fuck, I-- fuck, you feel amazing.’

Sander revels in the feeling of slick, hot wetness, cushioned on all sides, and slides his fingers further inside. He moans, following the movement of Robbe’s body, overwhelmed at the feeling of being _inside_ his omega, enveloped by that hot wet sweetness, and tries not to drool or cry or lose control.

When Sander curls his fingers, finding the softest, most sensitive spot inside, Robbe arches his back and wails, ‘I’m gonna come, Sander, please-’

And Sander knows what he needs. Leaning in, he kisses up Robbe’s neck, up and up, until he’s reached the scent gland just under Robbe’s ear, and -- waiting first for Robbe’s shallow breathing -- he then lightly grazes the flushed skin with his teeth.

Robbe cries out, his scent breaking, his body convulsing so beautifully, Sander wants to remember all of it. Robbe’s small fingers tightening around himself, cum dripping from his pretty cock, hips circling and mouth open in a perpetual moan, riding the wave of pure pleasure with Sander’s gentle murmurings at his ear, _so good that’s it baby oh fuck you’re the best omega aren’t you yes that’s it come for me baby you’re doing so well._

When Robbe flinches slightly, Sander knows he’s reached the end of his climax, and he gently takes his fingers out, careful not to hurt his omega, who’s curling shyly onto his side with a satisfied smile and Sander tries to memorize the way he looks right now, blissful and sated, tries to not think about the fact that this is as good as it’s ever going to get, that he can never fully be what Robbe needs, what he _deserves_.

Sander feels his body start to shiver slightly, suddenly vulnerable and raw like an exposed nerve in front of this perfect omega, and Robbe must be sensing it too, wordlessly wrapping his arms around Sander where he’s lying, tenderly pulling Sander into him, breathing with him.

Sander tries to breathe as they lay facing each other, Robbe embracing him, holding him tight to his chest and running his fingers through Sander’s hair. Soon, Robbe pulls the duvet up over them, leaving gentle kisses along Sander’s forehead as he clings Robbe to him. 

Robbe absentmindedly scents him again and again, even though it makes no difference now, in this bed, this nest that is all him, all _them_ , but Sander can sense his alpha’s comfort when Robbe cuddles him, leaving patterns of touch imprinted on Sander’s skin, purring softly. 

‘You were so sweet,’ Robbe sighs, slowly easing his alpha back. ‘And so hot.’

Unable to stop the small smile on his lips, Sander murmurs sleepily, ‘Yeah? I was good?’

Without skipping a beat, Robbe kisses him, ‘You were perfect _, alpha_.’

Sander rejoices internally with this moving confession and tries to ignore the weight of the truth and the way his alpha flinches at those words, still vulnerable after their intimacy and Robbe’s unconditional trust, twisting like a knife in his heart with the reminder he’s _not_ perfect, it can never be perfect, and no matter how hard he tries, it’s the truth. As true as the _planet Earth is blue and there’s nothing I can do nothing I can do nothing I can do nothing I can do nothing I can do nothing I can do nothing-_

Robbe just purrs a lullaby, cradling him close to his chest and quiets his mind, slowly rocking them both to sleep in his nest with such care that Sander’s more sure than ever he’s never really known care before.

***


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! 💕  
> Thank you so much for all the wonderful response to this lil story, it’s so exciting to hear your thoughts and questions and theories - please keep ‘em coming 🙏🥰 We have another chapter ready for you and fair warning - we’re slowly starting to earn the ‘heavy angst (with a happy ending)’ tag with this one, babes. But we love you 💗

***

When Sander wakes up, he’s sure he’s in heaven.

His whole body feels soft, well-rested and relaxed, like he’s been lying on a cloud. But it’s more than that, he feels something else, he feels… enveloped. Like he’s fallen through space into a parallel universe where nothing went wrong.

Slowly, he opens his eyes, not sure how long he’s been out, and sees bright red and golden yellow from the sun setting outside, filtered through the shades. And, closer, he sees the grey duvet, and beneath it, lying on his side, calm and beautiful in his sleep, Robbe.

His angel pendant is loose on his neck, and one paw is curled just under his chin. With the burning sky filling him from behind, he looks like he’s got a full-body halo, ethereal like a shining star, lying there making these soft sleep sounds, his eyelashes long against his cheek. And Sander can’t help but reach out a hand and gently touch him, just to make sure he’s real. 

Robbe is warm, his scent muted in his sleep, and his hair is still wild from their morning together. Which Sander remembers with absolute glee. He closes his eyes briefly, and can still feel Robbe soft in his hand, still taste him on his lips. He licks them and grins to himself, reveling in the sweetness of his omega. In every sense.

Just then, he feels Robbe move, pawing at Sander’s arm and pulling it towards him. Sander smiles at his sleep-soft omega and shifts closer. Quietly, he whispers, _‘Are you awake?’_

Robbe doesn’t respond, so Sander runs the fingers of his free hand through Robbe’s hair, as gently as he can, and whispers, barely audible, _‘Are you really mine?‘_

He leans in and leaves a light kiss on Robbe’s forehead, then more fluttering kisses along his brow, his cheekbone, his jaw, anywhere he can reach. And Robbe giggles, opening his eyes so dreamily that Sander wants to roll on top of him and find all his tender parts again. 

‘Morning,’ Robbe says, eyebrows raised as Sander presses another kiss to the tip of his nose, ‘Or good evening, I guess?’ he chuckles, looking out the window, surprised too by how long they’ve been napping, _nesting,_ together.

‘Hello, angel,’ Sander whispers, dipping down to kiss Robbe’s lips because he can’t wait a minute longer.

‘Mmm,’ Robbe hums, curling his hands in Sander’s hair, ‘there’s my sexy alpha.’

Sander’s rational mind says that that comment should really just be funny, but the rest of him is on high alert and he knows his scent is going to give it away-

‘Oh,’ Robbe says, his eyes widening slightly, nostrils flaring. ‘Wow. You really like that, I’m guessing…’ He looks up at Sander through his eyelashes and smirks, proud of himself for bringing his alpha to his knees before they’ve even fully explored all of third base.

Sander suppresses a growl and presses his face into Robbe’s pillow, which - he realises - is not helping. It’s just a concentration of Robbe’s delectable scent. 

‘You’re so delicious,’ Sander complains, muffled in the pillow, ‘it’s a problem.’

‘Sorry what was that?’ Robbe says, smile loud in his voice, and hooking a leg across Sander’s hips, ‘I didn’t quite catch it.’

Sander’s alpha grabs hold of Robbe’s knee at once, and he looks up to see Robbe swinging up on top of him, square on his groin, and perched happily looking down.

‘You mumbled,’ Robbe says, ‘You need to say it again.’

‘You’re so delicious,’ Sander breathes out, his hands running up Robbe’s thighs. ‘Can you give a guy a break?’

‘You’re saying you want me to get down from here?’ Robbe smiles, running both hands down Sander’s chest, shifting slightly in Sander's lap and he has to fight back a moan.

Sander latches an iron grip on Robbe’s waist. ‘Absolutely not, you fucking- tease-’ he laughs, pushing himself up to plant another kiss on Robbe’s lips but Robbe leans back, teases him, and runs a finger across Sander’s lips instead. 

‘I wanted to kiss you so badly after we first met,’ Robbe admits, blushing prettily. ‘It was fucking hell in that beach house, you have no idea,’ he adds with a chuckle.

‘I know,’ Sander groans, ‘don’t you remember me falling into alpha space anytime you so much as _glanced_ my way?’

‘I do,’ Robbe replies, smug, ‘but I wasn’t sure it was really that much to do with me.’

‘Of course it was’ Sander smiles, 'everything's to do with you' he leans in for the kiss, but Robbe teases him again and leans back, eyes searching his as a silence passes between them.

‘When did you fall for me then? Really?’ Robbe asks then, biting his bottom lip, and Sander can tell it’s taking all his courage to ask that question.

‘The moment I laid eyes on you,’ Sander says.

‘The first night out there?’ Robbe asks, curious.

‘No,’ Sander adjusts his hips under him and Robbe lets out a quiet gasp, squirming in his lap, ‘Weeks ago, by the graffiti trucks, I saw you there with Noor’, Sander admits and Robbe’s eyes widen. 

‘What, did you actually think I was at the beach house to _meet new people_?’ Sander huffs out a laugh, pulling at Robbe now, not waiting any longer to connect them, suck on his bottom lip and lick into his mouth, ‘I was there to meet _you_ ,’ he murmurs against his lips.

Robbe feels so open, so responsive, as if every inch of his body is calling to Sander’s alpha, hot and hungry and already drooling for another taste.

‘When did you know?’ Sander asks in between kisses, curious to find out how quickly he’d revealed himself, just how bad he’d been at hiding his immediate urge to claim Robbe right there and then.

Robbe pulls back just enough to be able to speak, forehead still resting against Sander’s, 

‘At the bonfire, when you looked at me through the flames…’ Robbe says softly, eyes drifting slightly as if he’s seeing it before his eyes, and that’s when Sander realises Robbe is talking about himself-

‘...the moonlight was shining down on you, and I just knew-- _he_ is the one.’ 

Sander surges forward, kissing Robbe with renewed passion, pulling him closer still, and Robbe surprises him - and delights him fully - when he starts grinding down onto him. Sander instantly loses his breath. The firm pressure of Robbe’s thighs, the teasing touch, the burning heat and his own swelling hardness only separated by thin fabric of their boxers and it’s _too hot, too much_ all at once, but Sander can’t for the _life_ of him tell him to stop, won’t tell him to slow down. He only wants more. He gasps and spreads his hands across Robbe’s lower back, sucking a nipple in between his teeth as Robbe rolls his hips with more intent, licking up his sternum to his delicate neck, up to his ear, with a desperate plea for him to go _faster_ , _faster_ \-- and Robbe whispers back, _like this?_ \--

Then Robbe’s phone rings. 

Sander ignores it immediately - the fire alarm couldn’t deter his focus now - and Robbe tries too but when it rings for the second time he sighs, giggling at the grumpy expression on Sander’s face when he rolls off him. And it’s not long after Robbe’s laughter that Sander cracks and laughs along with him, feeling ridiculous with a raging boner in his boxers and being pulled back into reality, a little less sexy and far more absurd.

That’s when Sander senses the change in Robbe's scent. He glances over to him, who’s looking back at him with a cryptic expression, that Sander can't quite read.

‘It’s… Amber?’ Robbe says, holding his own phone out in front of him, brows slightly furrowed, scent slightly on guard.

Sander blinks and focuses on the screen as best he can through the haze of his alpha’s want. The caller ID says _Amber Snoeckx_ and Robbe looks annoyed when Sander quickly takes the phone from his hand. 

He can’t have her intrude. He can’t have this bubble burst. Not now. Not yet.

‘Don’t fucking call Robbe,’ he hangs up without another word and tosses the phone on the bed between them. 

He shrugs and smiles but Robbe remains quiet, a tense silence draws out between them.

‘What did she say?’ Sander asks, slightly nervous now, then reaches down to pick up his own phone from his pocket. He turns it on, immediately buzzing in his hand with new notifications.

‘Nothing. She just asked for you.’

Robbe doesn’t say anything else and Sander is about to respond when his phone buzzes again. 

He huffs, annoyed, his anxiety spiking at Robbe’s continued frustration and the insistent buzzing, as if the phone's sound itself is an accusation. 

He sees it’s Amber calling again, and notices a couple of unread text messages from Britt too. He ignores Britt and texts Amber, reminding her he doesn’t want to be contacted, then switches off his phone again.

He crawls back into bed, to a very withdrawn Robbe, the well known scent of confusion and suspicion filling up the air between them. Sander tries leaning into Robbe, fingers drawing small circles up his arm, but Robbe tenses under his touch. Taking a deep breath, he finally speaks.

‘Why is Amber calling you?’ he asks and Sander sighs, slowly closing his eyes. 

‘It’s probably just about Britt,’ he offers, even if he knows it’s not going to be enough.

‘How do you _really_ know Amber?’

‘Through Britt, ok? I already _told_ you,’ Sander snaps, wanting to kick himself.

‘Why are you lying? Were you-’ Robbe cuts himself off, goes quiet for a moment, then looks up at Sander and his reply slits through the air like a razor, ‘Were you cheating on Britt with her too?’ 

‘What?! I didn’t- I broke up with Britt ok!’ Sander bites back, harder than he intended to, ‘and Amber’s just-’

‘Just _what_ , exactly?’ Robbe asks, anger and hurt pouring from him now and Sander wants to scream, wants to turn back time, if not years then at least minutes - just enough so he wouldn’t have to do this.

He exhales and opens his mouth to respond -- but then Robbe’s phone rings again. 

Robbe looks down to where it’s buzzing on the bed in front of him. The sound is eerie, remote, like it’s creating a new distance between them, an invisible border that closed overnight and can no longer be crossed.

‘Ignore it,’ Sander pleads, ‘It’s probably just Amber again.’

But Robbe just looks at him, his deep brown eyes searching Sander’s for a truth that isn’t there, his bottom lip trembling with what Sander already knows he feels. He can smell it, taste it bitter on his tongue, and now he can see it too. 

_Disappointment_.

And it’s only the beginning, Sander knows, he’s seen it before.

‘We can’t ignore it forever’, Robbe just says and reaches for his phone.

‘I’m not asking for forever, Robbe,’ Sander says brokenly, ‘just-’

‘It’s Noor,’ Robbe sighs with barely hidden relief and holds the phone screen up to Sander. Robbe doesn’t say anything else but Sander can tell he wants to answer it, wants her comfort, can tell she makes him feel safe in a way Sander never could.

‘I should go,’ Sander says, quietly, pushing aside the duvet and gets out of bed. 

‘You--’

‘Yeah,’ Sander interrupts him for maximum impact, ‘Give you some space.’ 

Robbe gets up from the bed now too, standing darkly lit against the bay window, small and silhouetted in the last rays of sunlight, the darkened sky bruised in deep purple and blood red, shadows stabbing into the room between them. Robbe is still limply holding on to his phone, watching quietly, as Sander puts on all the clothes they took off so eagerly, so tenderly this morning. Sander is quick, efficient, clinical about it, trying with everything he’s got to avoid the eye contact he knows will break him. 

‘Space?’ Robbe repeats, hollow.

‘You said you were about to go into heat, right?’ Sander asks, as coldly as he can manage, trying to hide the tremble in his own voice, the way his hands are shaking as he pulls on his t-shirt, ‘Well. It’s probably best I’m not here.’

‘Says who?’

‘I don’t know, _Noor_?’ Sander huffs and hates that he has to do this, hates that he has to make Robbe resent him like this, even if he knows it’s for the best.

‘What? But we-’

‘We only met a few days ago,’ Sander sighs, sits on the end of the bed with his back turned and shoves his right foot into one of his Docs, speaking over his shoulder to deliver that final blow, ‘I could be any kind of alpha, Robbe, you don’t know.’

Robbe flinches behind him, then drops his phone and walks towards him, ‘Sander, how can you-’

‘Sorry,’ Sander stands up and grabs his jacket. ‘It’s best I leave.’

He doesn’t wait for Robbe’s response, just picks up his bag, walks out into the corridor and exits without another word. 

The door clicks quietly behind him, followed by an earth shattering silence as he stands there in the beautiful marble hallway waiting for the elevator, hoping against hope until the very last second that Robbe will come out and stop him. 

He doesn’t. And Sander descends, slowly but surely and sooner than he’d hoped, back down to reality. 

Bursting out onto the street, he heads instinctively back to college, tears at the corner of his eyes, fist gripping the strap of his backpack, his other hand balled and ready to hit something, someone, anyone if they get too close. He knows most people will stay well away when they smell spiteful, self-loathing alpha -- even betas will avoid him like he’s a wounded wolf, too dangerous to help, too miserable to help himself.

It’s as he storms past a sign for KAB that everything comes crashing down on him, the realisation that he’s already fucked up. He didn’t even get 12 hours with Robbe alone and he fucked it up. Like he always does. He just can’t keep a good thing going. It’s always cut-and-run, withdraw your toxic touch, get out before you make it worse. He searches in his jacket pocket for his tobacco and skins, and clinically rolls himself a cigarette just to get him as far as college. It doesn’t matter that it’s night now, he has his own key to the studios and he can just hide out there until he figures out his next move.

He can’t go home, not now. Doesn’t want to face Amber and her inquisition, doesn’t want the repercussions of the weekend to catch up with him just yet. So he smokes his cigarette, turns on his phone and texts Amber that he’s going to go work at school and to not bother Robbe anymore, and then he heads to the attic studios, realising he can just hide there if he gets a sleeping bag and some food. His student card can get him into the gym in the morning - therefore the showers - and the Fashion studios have washing machines and dryers he can use for laundry. Maybe later tonight he can sneak home, grab a sleeping bag, a pillow, and his bike, and he’ll be set for a good few weeks at least.

Then he gets another text.

  
  


_Britt (20:21)_

Noor told me what you did to Robbe  
Wow that’s pretty mean. Even for you

He groans out loud and throws the phone at the floor, a shattering sound bouncing off of the concrete. Immediately regretting it, he picks it back up to check it’s still working at least, his own distorted reflection staring back at him from the broken screen. 

Then, he takes out one of his thick drawing pads and charcoals and opens up a blank page, wanting to escape from all this noise for a while. So he sits down by the old wooden desk and gets his hands dirty, fills the dark space in his mind, in his heart, with images of memories, holding on to every single one for just a little while longer. Just a little longer.

**

Sander doesn’t realize how much time has passed until his eyes hurt, until he’s too tired to separate the black lines on the white paper. He blinks up against the rooftop window and the pale moon shining down on him. The same moon that was shining down on him and Robbe in the water less than 24 hours ago but it feels like ages ago now, distant like a dream, a delirium. 

He looks around him, at the desk full of sheets of paper with drawings of that very same beach, of a stolen glance over a burning bonfire, a longing kiss in the sea. Drawings of gentle touches in window sills, against kitchen counters, on empty trains. The russet hair and the pale skin of the softest omega he’s ever felt, the sheer curtains around a bay window. A cold iron grill behind a frosted glass door to a marble hallway he’s never going to see again. Dark eyes and soft lips and open hands. 

Then he looks down at his own hand, feeling it cramp up under his gaze. His back and legs locking up too as he realizes he hasn’t moved at all in almost six hours.

Slowly he gets up from his seat, pushes through the pain with gritted teeth and slips out of the studio, out into the dark quiet hall and down the stairs, out onto the street and into the cool night air. 

He doesn’t feel hungry or thirsty, just dizzy and feverish and slightly disoriented as he half-walks half runs the couple of miles home, hiding outside until he’s sure everyone’s still in bed, trying to find any feeling of grief for how excluded he is, how this is supposedly his home, why it had to be, but he only feels grief about Robbe. When he’s sure they’re all still asleep, he sneaks inside, tiptoes upstairs, and gets into his room. It’s mostly empty, he carries most of his life in his bag anyway, and he just picks up his sleeping bag and fills his backpack with a small collection of his favorite spray cans - it takes the most of five minutes. Downstairs, he quietly walks into the kitchen to empty the fridge and the wallet lying there on the kitchen counter, a fleeting flash of guilt making him put back some of the money before he goes back outside and unlocks his bike.

He cycles back through the city, feeling safe under the cloak of darkness with the streetlamps to pinpoint his progress. He stops at an all-night store to stock up on tobacco and skins and to get some sugar in his system, which he swallows down with the disgusting canned rum and coke he bought along with a probably even worse gin and tonic soda. It’s so late that it’s early, and he decides to stay up to see the dawn break. He bikes aimlessly around town, down through the small cobblestone streets and out to the old public swimming pool, where he used to go as a kid, then down to the docks. 

Sitting there on the breakers, under the grey-blue sky - barely turning into a warm amber colour, he thinks with a huff - he ignores the shiver in his bones and takes out his phone. While the birds chirp around him, he stares at the terrifying blank screen and the countless messages he’s typed out and deleted before they were ever sent. _Sorry I snapped tonight_. _Can we talk? Are you ok?_ _I wanna tell you everything._

He can’t remember what he was thinking when he left Robbe's apartment. He doesn’t know - and does not _want_ to know - if it really will be the last time he’ll ever see him. All he knows is he has this ache inside, this nauseating, isolated ache, and his alpha is calling for the comforting scent of Robbe, his gentle touch. His mind’s eye is fixated on the devastated look on Robbe’s face, the dark shadow he made against the burning sky, like it was erupting around him, and Sander is sick with himself for leaving him like that. It’s unforgivable.

_(04:09)_

I’m sorry  
I fucked up, I know  
I was fucked up

You’re the first - the only one  
who’s ever really made me feel something  
And your kisses ... 🤯

But sometimes it burns in my brain  
Like Chernobyl

The seagulls amass around him, clearly waiting for fishing boats to come into harbor. He lies back on the ground, sees the warehouse behind him upside-down in his vision, seeming to come out of the sky instead of the earth. 

He sits up, turns around, and takes in the warehouse, a perfect canvas for him to use. A perfect place for him to dedicate the best of himself to the most beautiful omega he’ll never have. 

The image of Robbe’s face painted against the old brick wall is so clear in his mind, like a ghost from a parallel universe, that he’s on his feet before he can think twice. He picks up his backpack and the spray cans he brought with him and gets to work.

All through the dawn, he works, until the sun turns the sky orange, then pink and powerful, and finally a blazing clear light over and beyond the horizon. 

Robbe still hasn’t replied. 

**

Making it back to school just half an hour before his life drawing class the next morning, Sander thinks he might as well skip sleep entirely and try to make headway with his work. 

Finally, he realises, he’s really nailed the balance between stylistic embellishment and precision, and it gives him a brief reprieve from everything else that weighs him down. He finds similar peace in his photography class, the print studio tutorial, and his risograph workshop. He fills his notebook with ideas for later, how he can shorten the night when he’s not sleeping - maybe try different framing methods, start a zine, trial the riso printer. 

As he’s retreating from class to his studio in the late afternoon, absent-mindedly going up the main staircase, he hears someone call his name. For a moment, his heart leaps and he hopes against all hope that when he turns around he’ll see a small fox-like boy with big brown eyes.

Instead, he turns and sees Amber at the foot of the stairs, the usual kind but disapproving look on her face, like a lovingly disappointed parent. 

‘Sander. You have to come home.’

He suppresses a frustrated grunt, walks down the steps and storms past her, leading her back into the empty life drawing studio next to them.

When he closes the door, he rounds on her, ‘What about my messages was unclear? Leave me be.’

‘Sander, I care about you. I’m not your girlfriend and I’m not mama, ok, I’m not trying to nag--’

‘Really? Could’ve fooled me.’

‘--but I’m worried sick about you. I don’t understand what’s going on. I mean, I’ve covered for you at home, I just told them you were staying with Britt because she’s closer to college--’

‘Stay out of it, Amber. Just-.’

‘At least tell me where you’re staying, then, if you refuse to come home or accept help--’

‘I don’t have to tell you anything. I just want space from all of this bullshit, can’t you just respect that?’

‘You’re not-’ Amber is unrelenting, as usual, trying the thing that always gets Sander to buckle she whispers, ‘You’re not like other alphas, Sander.’

He flinches from the sting, even though he knows she’s not deliberately trying to hurt him, even though he knows it’s the truth, wishing more than ever he had Robbe nearby for comfort, so much so his body even betrays him with the _smell_ of him. 

Clenching his jaw, Sander looks her square in the eye. ‘I get by better than a beta can,’ he hisses but she doesn’t take offense, just sends him a patient look, a look of pity, and Sander doesn’t know what’s worse.

‘Can you just-’ she takes a deep breath, her hand coming up to Sander’s cheek, ‘Can you just promise me that you won’t hurt yourself? Or anyone else? I just need to know you’ll be ok-’

It’s then Sander hears a creak in the floorboards in the hallway outside and glances up through the glass door.

‘Oh no,’ he says, more to himself than anything, ‘Robbe-’

The flash of Robbe’s face disappears almost as soon as Sander sees it.

Amber wheels around. ‘Did you say-’

Sander bolts past her, running out into the hallway, and spots Robbe rounding the corner out the front gate of the college. Amber is quick behind him, repeating again, ‘Robbe was there?’

‘ _Fuck_ ,’ Sander curses. ‘I don’t know how much he heard. He thinks you and I-’

‘You didn’t tell him-’

‘Of course not! You think I want to drag him into my mess?!’

‘Sander-’

He snaps back, ‘Just back _off_ Amber!’

And he runs. Past students and staircases and through doorways, away from Amber, away from his past, his doubts, and towards the only thing that makes sense right now, towards a moonlit boy that he can’t - _won’t_ \- live without. Not anymore. 

His heart pounds with questions. Why was Robbe there? Was Robbe looking for him? What would he say if-

‘Robbe!’ he stops and calls when he sees him by the bike stands across from the school, fighting with his lock, his small silhouette brimming with omega hurt, anger, shame. 

‘Robbe!’ Sander calls again, but he’s still too far to hear him. Sander's about to run to him, ‘Ro-’

‘Oh no you _don’t!_ ’ 

He feels a sudden force pull at his arm from his left and before he realises what it is, he’s shoved so hard he collides with the wall to his right, ‘You _don’t_ get to do this!’ 

Sander looks up from the ground, confused, trying to ignore the immediate pain in his right shoulder and finds a very angry Noor, spitting insults at him, the hostility in her scent so intense he’s surprised he didn’t catch onto it sooner.

‘You’re a fucking _asshole_ , you know that?’ she yells and he can tell she’s holding back the urge to kick him, ‘He was devastated, Sander. Broken!’ she shouts, and Sander catches himself thinking she might as well kick him. It would hurt less.

He doesn’t say anything, just stays there, taking in all of her rage, relatable as it is, rising from the dark depths to every surface, wanting to take him with it, pull him apart. Rightfully so.

‘Noor, I just want to--’

‘No!’ she shouts, ‘You walked out on him. You just left! Just like every other _fucking_ alpha, thinking he’s a plaything. It’s _not_ ok, Sander. You can’t go around using people like that. First Britt, now him? Who’s next?’

He knows she’s right, but he hears himself desperately say, ‘It’s not what you think--’

‘He might not be _my_ omega anymore, but I’ll protect him as long as I have to,’ she looks him straight in the eye, ‘and you sure as hell don’t deserve him.’ 

Noor rushes away from him and runs towards Robbe, calling his name, and Sander watches from afar, defeated, as she catches up to him, watches as Robbe accepts the comforts of her hug, and for the first time since he lost his moonlit, fox-like boy, the omega who made him think for a split second that things could be different, Sander is starting to accept they’re not.

  
  
***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to yell at us in the comments and come cuddle afterwards over on tumblr 😉😘


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi babes!💕  
> Finally we have another chapter ready for you to soothe your WTFockdown withdrawals (I know I needed it) and we really hope you'll like this one! Tags are updated so please make sure to check those. TW (mild) in endnotes.
> 
> Stay safe lovelies and please leave a kudos or a comment if you're enjoying this lil story, it means the world to us! 🙏😘

***

_Stop it! Sander! Stop!_

Sander jerks awake, panting. His sleeping bag is damp, and his hair is drenched in sweat. 

Another nightmare. The same. As always.

He sits up, holding his head in his hands, leaning his forehead against his knees, trying to remember the breathing exercise his mama taught him. _In for 4, hold for 4, out for 4._ He feels a few tears slip out, but he shudders through another breath, and wraps his arms around his legs. It’s just a nightmare. Just a nightmare. Just a nightmare.

He glances around the walls, each scrap of paper another drawing of his omega and the memory of Robbe’s lips on his, the sweet smell of omega care and sensation of affection that’s still barely clinging to Sander’s fingertips. Though there’s every chance that Robbe is with Noor now, Sander imagines he’s alone, like him, and he desperately imagines Robbe misses him too.

He looks up at the skylights in the studio, distracted by the sound of rain hitting the glass. Salt and sea spray sprinkle the pitched roof windows, slanted against the drizzle, creating a gentle percussion above his head. The white noise would lull him to sleep -- _if_ he could go back to sleep again. He rubs his forehead with the back of his hand, disgusted all at once with how clammy he is.

After a quick shower, he sneaks back out into the hallways of the school, checking his phone again and again for any sign that Robbe is thinking of him too. But his phone is stubbornly telling him the unpleasant truth. That Sander is alone.

The halls are eerily quiet, hollow like his racing heart, as he paces back and forth through them, trying to find some sort of purpose, dark shadows bleeding out onto the tiled floor and seeping into his mind, taking over his every thought and Sander can only think of _one_ place where he could go to get some calm.

It doesn’t matter that it’s drizzling and overcast, Sander races through Antwerp on his bike, blinking the rain from his eyes. The sea is still in the harbour, winds picking up and roughening the waves. When he gets to the harbour, the weight in his chest eases a bit, and he slows down, coming to a stop, and leaning his bike against the warehouse wall. 

Hunching into his jacket, Sander raises his collar around his neck, and walks to the mural. His alpha keens for the loss of his omega, and he hunkers down in front of the image, falling to his knees on the concrete.

Robbe’s eyes do calm him, a little, even if the real thing is much deeper, darker, softer. He remembers, with a pain in his chest, looking into them across the bonfire, feeling Robbe channeling omega care and protection even through the flames, wishing for the first time in his life that he could give back. Take care of someone else, someone other than himself. 

With an anguished cry, Sander holds his arms around his torso, glancing out into the harbour as more memories flood back. The night he walked out into the sea, burning hot and losing control, with Robbe following him. Soothing him, shivering slightly, so bold, so brave, so _perfect_ in his arms. 

_We shouldn’t…_

_Does it feel like we shouldn’t?_ ’

Quiet moans and soft lips and the gentle lapping of water around them, trembling fingers tangled in hair, and the taste of Robbe so sweet and true that Sander knows in his heart he’ll never taste anything like it.

_All the way or no way._

Getting back on his feet, Sander steps towards the harbour’s edge. His feet touch the border, and the wind ruffles him, shoves him back and forth, until he nearly dangles over the edge, wondering for the briefest of moments if it wouldn’t be easier. Just fall in. 

He catches himself, and steps back, his alpha roaring against the thought, loud and unyielding, reminding him he has an omega to take care of, to protect, to _love_. It doesn’t matter if it’s not reciprocated. He opens his texts, finding the last one he sent to Robbe that night he painted the mural.

_(04:09)_

But sometimes it burns in my brain   
Like Chernobyl 

  
  


He turns to the mural again, pale and cold as the rain batters one side of his face, and he walks up to it, placing a hand on Robbe’s cheek, regretting every decision he made to separate them, and even if he tell himself he shouldn’t, he types out a new text.

_(05:05)_

Please give me another chan…

He stops and deletes it. And tells himself it’s the right thing to do.

  
  


**

The four walls of his studio are his only sanctuary now. Though he knows in the back of his mind he should try to move on, should be making plans for the future, he can’t abide thinking about that. He just wants distraction. Even his alpha is muted, seemingly quiet since he stood at the harbour edge. Which was days ago now. He thinks. Not that he’s slept much.

Time passes in strange fits. Fast, then slow, then fast again. Some days he doesn’t leave the sleeping bag. Other days, he spends what feels like five minutes on a sketch and six hours have passed. 

But no matter how the time passes, he goes to the mural every night because he needs to. Because he can’t stop himself. It’s the only thing separating the days. _Five_ now, he counts. 

And for the times in between, he checks his phone compulsively, and gets lost in old pictures of Robbe on his friends’ Instagram accounts. He needs to know something, anything about where he is, what he’s doing, how he feels.

And sure enough, one day, he finds out.

Sometime after lunch, he opens the app up again, only to see a post on Jens’ account. It’s three of them - Jens, Moyo, Aaron - and though Robbe isn’t there in person, he is in effect, because the three of them are grinning at the camera, standing in front of the mural. Robbe is tagged in it and every other comment tags him, too. He hasn’t responded to any of them.

Sander sits bolt upright at his desk, hunched over his phone, hoping that Robbe will comment on it, or text him, or call or just appear in the studio door right now and hug him. There’s a small part of Sander’s brain that asks, _What exactly did you expect?_ But Sander doesn’t have an answer. He hasn’t fully grasped yet that Robbe has actually seen the mural now.

Sander’s phone pings with a new notification and Sander opens it, his hand shaking in anticipation.

_Jens Stoffels (13:02)_

Nice work man  
But he needs clarity, not artwork.  
Either you choose him or it ends here and now, ok?  
  


Sander can’t stop staring at the screen. At Jens’ words and his own shattered reflection staring back at him and he makes a decision, a promise to himself, that the least he can do is _try_. Pulling on his cream jumper, his leather jacket and brown beanie, he heads out of college.

  
  


**

Sander pulls the beanie further down over his ears, curling slightly in on himself as he leans against the yellow brick wall of the KAB building. He hasn’t got a plan, doesn’t even know what he’s supposed to say to Robbe if he’s even there. All he knows is he wants another chance. He has to give it one final shot.

His alpha smells Robbe’s omega before he even sees him, and Sander’s entire being is vibrating with the impact. _Fresh, warm, earthy, a little sweet,_ and everything Sander’s ever needed. He turns his head to the right, eyes fixed on the doorway where everyone is walking out of school past him, unaware he’s lurking to the side, and it feels like everything is moving in slow motion.

Then, time stops.

Robbe’s small frame is unmistakable in his tan jacket as he steps out of the door and into the sun, a burgundy beanie flattening down his curls, the strap of his backpack slung over one shoulder, and Sander feels his heart leap at the mere sight. 

Robbe stops, not more than ten feet away from him, his head turning slightly, and for a moment Sander wonders if Robbe can smell him too. Taking a deep breath, Sander takes a hesitant step forward, ‘Ro-’

‘Robbe!’ he’s interrupted by a loud voice coming from within the hallway and for a moment Sander thinks it’s Noor, but then Aaron bursts out of the building, jumping up on Robbe’s back.

And soon, a recognisable tall figure - Jens - joins them alongside Moyo, and Sander pulls back, turning away slightly, hoping to blend in with the wall and the crowd of people passing between them. 

‘Mensen! I present to you, Robbe Ijzermans! Antwerp’s one and only living art installation!’ Moyo announces loud and laughing and Sander peeks over his shoulder, his alpha grunting at the sight of Moyo’s public attempt at humiliating his omega, but Robbe’s just giggling, trying and failing to cover Moyo’s mouth with his small hand. 

‘I just can’t believe it, man!’ Moyo exclaims. ‘Why’d you dump hot alpha Noor for a goddamn _stalker_ , especially that Jack Frost-lookalike, _fakka_!’

‘Easy,’ Jens cuts across him calmly when he sees Robbe’s smile falter, ‘You’re just jealous cause no-one wants to paint a mural of your ugly-ass face,’ he bites back and sends Robbe a supportive nod.

‘Ooooh!’ Moyo gleefully replies, ‘ _Another_ alpha hot for your omega ass, huh?’ Moyo elbows Jens.

‘No one’s hot for me, fucking hell,’ Robbe sighs exasperated, ‘Especially not Sander.’

‘Yeah, but he _was_ ,’ Moyo grins, knowing he’s hit a sore spot. ‘You omegas man, you get all the damn attention-’ 

‘Maybe he was,’ Robbe snaps. ‘And I was into him, ok? Past tense. _Was._ And it’s over and done now. Satisfied?’

Moyo crows, exhilarated that he provoked Robbe, and punches Aaron’s arm, hooting _maybe you should paint Amber’s face on a wall dude. You’ll finally get laid!_

They slowly start moving to the right of the building and Sander stays behind, his heart beating against his ribs, his alpha yelping, whining, and whimpering at the rejection that feels too much like a swift, puncturing kick. If he was less conscious of his vulnerable position - alone, in public, still in earshot of Robbe - he’d fall to his knees and _howl_. 

More than his own guttural reaction to the brutal confirmation of Robbe’s pain, Sander’s alpha is restless, tetchy, and refusing to settle. Its yelps turn into beseeching cries, insistent and unrelenting and it prompts Sander throw away any shred of pride of performance he was holding on to, quickly taking out his phone and typing out the text he should’ve sent a long time ago. 

_(14:17)_

Robbe I'm sorry  
Ik zie je graag  
Please give me another chance

He presses send, eyes fixed on Robbe’s back in the distance as he stops just as the others turn the corner, and he watches Robbe gaze down at his phone, and everything inside Sander is screaming at him to run to his omega, tell him he _is_ the one, that they _are_ the future--

‘Asshole!’ he feels a pull at his arms and turns towards it, immediate confusion accompanied by a sharp sting of a slap across his face and he blinks, his alpha’s senses heightened at the unexpected attack and finds Britt, anger pouring from her as she shouts at him, “Why can’t you just stay from me?! Fuck off okay, we’re done,’ she barks and Sander frowns,

‘Wha-’ 

‘Over! Done! Schluss! Get it now?!’ 

She walks away before he gets a chance to say anything else, but he doesn’t care. All Sander cares about right now--

He turns quickly, hoping against hope that Robbe is still there, or that he’s at least responded to his text, but there’s nothing but an empty street and an unanswered text that still says it all. Everything he needs to know.

 _Seen._

And Sander wonders if Robbe saw him and reacted the same. Just turned his face away and looked for something better. Something less toxic.

  
  
  


**

  
  


_I get funny dreams again and again know what it means, but can’t explain I think it’s love say it to you when I feel blue I can’t explain no I can’t explain_

It’s evening again, close to nine Sander checks and fixates back on his usual Bowie playlists to take him to the one place he might feel a little less alone. The music makes him think of stardust and galaxies, light streaming through endless space.

Stillness in isolation.

And the lyrics only compound it as he walks through Antwerp, just as the dusk deepens to twilight and draws the tree branches as lines etched in the night sky.

He walks with purpose, hands balled in his jacket pockets, headphones cushioning him from the world, the song reminding him, _You know I can’t explain. I’m going out of my mind. Well I’m a worried guy. But I can’t explain-_

There’s less grief in that thought now. He just wants to be with Robbe just one last time, the only way he can. 

So he wanders by the breakers, and stops just a few feet away from the mural, where he drops his backpack with all the spray cans and takes out the floor-standing floodlight he borrowed from college. He switches it on, aiming it right at Robbe’s eyes, lighting up in the creeping night.

Then he sits, just for a moment, cross-legged and looking up at the omega, the _one_ , the one he’s about to cover up. Taking in his beauty and taking out a can of bad gin & tonic from his backpack. 

‘Well, Robbe,’ he cheers into the night, defeated, ‘I’d offer you some but I believe you’re more of a whiskey-man,’ he huffs a laugh to himself, ludicrous as he is talking to an inanimate object. Soon, he takes out his tobacco and skins again to roll a cigarette. 

‘Look at us, hm?’ he muses as he assembles his rollie. ‘A homeless waif of an alpha and the ghost of an omega who is truly art come to life, forever ripped apart. Bonus: the alpha literally talks to brick walls now.’

He strikes a match and holds it to the cigarette between his lips, cupping the fragile flame against the sea spray. A reflection. He blows out the match and drops it, then hugs his arms around his knees.

‘I don’t even know what I should say,’ he whispers, as much to Robbe as himself. ‘I know you deserve better.’

He reaches for a spray can when his phone buzzes. His compulsion still strong, he immediately takes it out of his pocket and stares at the broken screen. Quickly he stands up and answers it, instinctively running a hand through his hair.

‘Robbe?’ Sander asks, carefully, almost like he doesn’t fully believe it.

‘You have five minutes to explain yourself.’

Sander goes quiet, feeling the weight of the moment in knowing _this_ , this minute right now, is his chance. His second and _final_ one.

‘I-I shouldn’t have left,’ he stutters, heart pounding in his chest, ‘There’s no excuse. I- there’s a lot you don’t know about me.’

‘Like Amber?’ Robbe’s voice comes clear through the phone. He’s collected, clinical. Awaiting sentencing.

‘Yeah, Amber, to name one. It’s not what you think-’ Sander breathes out, only now realising he’s been holding it,

‘What is it then?’ he prompts and Sander takes a deep breath.

‘She’s-’ he starts, the hair on his neck standing on end as memories flash before his eyes, ‘She’s my sister, well, my half-sister at least,’ he quickly splutters.

There’s a long pause and Sander notices how much his hands are shaking.

‘Your… _sister_?’ Robbe sounds skeptical.

‘Yeah. Our parents... well _her_ parents, they aren’t my real- I’ve been going from foster home to foster home as long as I remember. Until I ended up at Amber’s. I’ve been there since I was thirteen,’ he breathes out and Robbe goes silent for a moment. 

‘Okay…’ Robbe says quietly, tentatively ‘And what about your parents, do you-’

‘They’re dead. They died in a car accident when I was six years old. And they weren’t- I didn’t...’ he swallows hard and words fail him, the truth fails him, ‘It’s complicated. And I told Amber not to tell anyone because I didn’t want everyone to know-’ he says, hoping that there might be the slight chance that Robbe understands complicated family situations, ‘I didn’t want you to know about my mess, I don’t want you to pity me. And I didn’t want to have to lie.’

‘But you did,’ Robbe says and the truth stings, but Sander knows he’s right. 

‘You’re right. I did. And I’m sorry,’ he says, quietly and nods.

‘And what about Britt,’ Robbe says, his voice a little gentler now, ‘Does she not know?’

‘No, not all of it,’ Sander replies, a weight on his chest at the mere mention of her name. ‘I met Britt last summer. When I found out they knew about each other from school, I made Amber swear not to tell her anything.’ 

‘So first prize for shitty boyfriend _and_ shitty brother?’ Robbe says, but there’s a smile in his voice now and Sander can almost see Robbe’s face in his mind’s eye, can almost recall the sweetness of his scent. 

‘Yeah, I guess I win,’ Sander chuckles.

There’s a long moment of silence, and Sander holds on to the phone like a lifeline, straining to hear anything from Robbe. When no reply comes, he rushes on.

‘Look, I took the easy way out,’ he sighs, biting his lip, ‘I thought it was better to pretend to be a proper alpha with her, rather than being alone. But I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong, Robbe. All it did was make her feel insecure and make me feel empty. Then I met you… and I- I’ve never felt anything like it. But afterwards, my brain just…’

‘Chernobyl?’ Robbe whispers.

‘Yeah, Chernobyl,’ Sander whispers back.

‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?’ Robbe asks, a slight change in his tone now and Sander hopes with all his heart that he’s earned back the tiniest bit of trust, determined not to let him down again.

‘I wanted to live in that moment forever,’ Sander says, honesty suddenly pouring out of him like a breaking dam, ‘And I didn’t want to think about everything that’s wrong in my life. I wanted to do better. I just wanted- I just _want_ to be with you.’

He can’t help that his voice breaks at the realisation. He just wants to _be_ with Robbe, more than anything else. And that’s a beautiful relief, to want something more than he hates himself - to want something _someone_ in his life that is kind and caring.

‘Sander…’ Robbe says, and there’s a warmth in his voice now that Sander can almost feel on his skin, a softness that he tunes into, so real he can ignore the other noise on the line in the background, ‘We need to talk about the mural,’ he sighs.

‘Right,’ Sander smiles, gazing up at the brick wall in front of him, the one he set out tonight to cover up once and for all ‘What do you think?’

‘It’s uhm… _big_ ,’ Robbe laughs and Sander can’t help but laugh a little too.

‘It’s a lot, I know. Don’t worry, I’ll erase it,’ Sander says, despite how much it hurts to say those words. 

‘No,’ Robbe says, his voice suddenly firm, ‘I don’t want you to erase it,’ he continues and for a moment it sounds like he’s holding his breath. Sander does too.

‘Turn around.’

Sander freezes. His reason rebels against the idea, but his alpha instinct, his _heart_ , knows it’s true. 

Slowly, he turns, gazing out into the darkness to the next dock over, separated from him by night and the concrete inlet between them. 

‘You’re _here_?’ Sander says, staring out into the darkness in disbelief, trying to make out anything in the street lamps but they only illuminate circles of orange light around the skate park on the other side before stopping at the breakers.

‘Yeah, I- I got your text and... and I wanted to come here and see it for myself- well, without the Broerrrs at least,’ Robbe chuckles and Sander is back to holding his breath.

A small fox-like figure steps into the distant yellow light from one of the street lamps, illuminated like the first time Sander saw him by the graffiti trucks, only a couple of weeks back, but it feels like a lifetime has passed, ‘And when I saw you over there…’ 

‘How did you know it was me?’ Sander smiles, eyes fixed on the outline of Robbe’s small frame as if he’s afraid he’ll slip away back into the darkness any moment.

‘Your hair,’ Robbe chuckles, and Sander can make out the small movements of his body’s now, see the way he tilt his head, ‘Also, you brought a damn floodlight, Sander, who else would be _that_ dramatic, come on.’

Sander laughs and nods at the floor-standing floodlight at his own feet. For a brief moment it makes him feel like he’s on stage, like the singular spotlight is pointing him out and putting him on trial for all his fuck-ups. Only there’s no judge, no jury, not anymore.

‘I came here to cover it up, clean up my mess once and for all,’ Sander admits, eyes drifting from Robbe to his backpack full of cans and back.

‘Just don’t move. Stay there,’ Robbe says as he starts moving, ‘And don’t even _think_ about touching that mural!’ 

‘You like it then,’ Sander smirks, not taking his eyes off Robbe as he picks up speed and sprints through the night.

Robbe huffs down the phone. ‘Stop fishing for compliments— it’s fucking beautiful and you know it— I can’t believe you did that for me--’

Sander lets the tears he feels pressing behind his eyes gather in the corners of his lashes as he smiles and looks into the darkness around him, the subtle scent of his omega getting closer, ever closer. 

‘I can’t believe you’re doing this for _me_ ,’ Sander replies and as he finishes his sentence, he can see Robbe running through the gloom. 

Still holding the phone to his ear, Sander takes a deep breath to center himself and to take in the comfort in Robbe’s omega scent washing over him and wrapping him up in care, feeling his alpha become slightly more grounded and strong, as sure as gravity.

Robbe comes to a halt just a few feet from him. He looks at Sander directly, unblinking and slightly breathless, his expression open but careful, the phone still pressed to his ear too.

Sander tries to stay calm as Robbe walks closer and stops in front of him, the depths of his eyes plain to see, the freckles on his nose, the way his hair smells warm. They’re both holding onto their phones, like their conversation is taking place in its own parallel universe they’re not ready to let go of just yet, both taking deep breaths to build up the courage to step back into _this_ universe, to take that leap of faith. 

Robbe looks determined but Sander beats him to it, taking a hesitant step forward into Robbe’s personal space.

Sander smiles, his eyes darting to Robbe’s lips, the scent of him so strong that he wants to imbibe it. And Robbe just looks at him, eyes squinting slightly as they search his, as if to say _What’s it gonna be?_

Sander grabs hold of his omega and pulls him in, foreheads touching and with one hand on the back of his neck, as if to steady himself and his urge to kiss Robbe with every ounce of grief and affection he possesses. His inner alpha keens and howls for his omega, for the pain of being apart for so long; and Sander can sense how Robbe’s mere presence soothes it. It makes him break out in goosebumps.

Robbe curls his hands around Sander’s jacket collar, raising up on to his tiptoes and Sander can feel how much he’s missed him, too. Robbe comes closer still, leaning in, parting his lips, and Sander gasps, feeling the warmth of Robbe’s breath on his lips. But just as quickly, Robbe tilts his head back and says,

‘And what about Chernobyl then?’

It’s softer than Sander anticipated. But a reminder that he’s not done proving himself to Robbe, and he won’t be for a while. The waves lap at the shore as Sander wraps his arms tight around his omega’s waist and finally closes the distance between them.

Sander kisses Robbe with everything that he is and lifts him up, licking into his mouth as Robbe kisses him back, sure and confident and eager, his small paws finding their way into his hair to pull him closer still. 

It’s hard to believe that any of it is happening, that Robbe is really there, that they’re reuniting here in the darkness, but Sander just grasps on to his omega and tells himself never to let go. 

Then, grounded by Robbe’s fingers laced in his wild silver hair he leans back for a moment to take in the look on Robbe’s lovestruck face, and with a wide smile he promises, 

‘Fuck Chernobyl.’

  
  


***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: suicidal thoughts (brief), mentions of parents' death (brief)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! 💕  
> We’re back with another chapter yay! This one’s pretty much all Z and one of my fave chapters so far, so I hope you’ll like it too! As always, please leave a kudos or a comment if you enjoyed and let us know your thoughts and maybe what you think will happen next? 😘

***

He stirs. 

Sunshine glows softly on his face. He’s well-rested. Warm. He’s mildly surprised that he slept so comfortably in his sleeping bag on the hardwood studio floor. Slowly, he stretches out his arms to ease the tension in his body, and then rolls over out of the sleeping bag. 

Then, the world is pulled out from under him. 

His alpha jolts as he falls a sickening drop that’s over as soon as it started. He hits the floor elbow-first, and cries out in shock and pain, opening his eyes for the first time before his brain has fully catched up with where he is.

His alpha quickly scans the room for threat but he finds only traces of soft omega scent and warm light. His elbow radiates a searing pain, but he can’t feel it, all he feels is relief as he glances around, seeing the gossamer-thin white shades on the bay window, the desk in front of it, the tan-brown jacket strewn on the chair. And he remembers, his heart bursting with the realisation.

‘Sander, wat de fock-’ 

Sander looks up to the bed, where Robbe’s sleepy face is tilted down to him, a wild bedhead of hair strewn in brown curls around it, his angel pendant swinging delicately from his neck, almost like it’s reaching out towards him.

‘Did you fall out?’ Robbe croaks, barely awake, his omega scenting confusion as much as concern. ‘Are you ok?’

And all at once, Sander smiles, overwhelmed with joy and gratitude, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as his smile turns into laughter, loud and uncontrolled. _Free_. His memory catching up to him fully now. He’s not alone in the studio anymore. He spent the night at the mural, kissing Robbe like his life depended on it, then running back to the apartment, too overwhelmed to do anything but just circle into Robbe’s arms, resting side by side, fingers and legs and hearts entwined like knotted threads. 

He remembers now - with a deep, primal ache of comfort and delight - how Robbe trailed the gentlest touch along Sander’s face, arms, through his hair, as they talked all night. About foster homes and fears of abandonment, about Robbe’s mom and Sander’s memories of his too, about Amber and Britt and Noor. About the mural and Sander’s temporary home in the studio at school. But more than anything, Sander remembers how he barely dared breathe let alone blink from fear that this was all just an illusion, a treacherous dream. And how for the first time in a long time, after Robbe had reassured him again that he wasn’t going anywhere, Sander had willingly closed his eyes and let himself fall asleep, to sweet promises whispered into the night, nose to nose with the one who held his heart in his hand.

Sander gazes up at Robbe now, torn between thorough grief of the time they’d lost and overwhelming joy of what they’ve finally found. Rediscovered.

‘Yeah I did,’ Sander chuckles, a little embarrassed, running the palm of his hand around his elbow to ease the ache. ‘Forgot where I was.’

‘You forgot...’ Robbe asks, rubbing his eyes, ‘...where you were?’ He inhales sharply, before he makes a sudden yawn, and then sniffs again, catching Sander’s scent. 

‘Hey,’ Robbe says, quietly, a small smile on his face. ‘C’mere.’ 

He nods to the pillows and Sander eases up off the floor, sliding under the duvet and into the warmth there left by Robbe. Sander’s alpha shivers with pleasure as Robbe pulls him into an embrace, and leaves a soft kiss on his forehead, ‘Go back to sleep, baby.’

  
  


**

  
  


Sander wakes up about two hours later, when it’s getting closer to noon than to dawn, and Robbe is still fast asleep on his side, his small hands resting near the pillow. For a while, Sander just lies next to him and listens to his slow, gentle breathing, and his alpha sighs in contentment. Soon, though, he feels the ache of hunger and wonders if he can eat anything. But he’s conscious there are at least two other people living here - he would have no idea what to take from the kitchen. So he decides to go out and surprise Robbe with fresh croissants. He gleefully imagines how Robbe will react when he wakes up to Sander sitting next to him with those. _Maybe he’ll be so thrilled he’ll take his pants off._

As quietly as he can, he eases out of the bed and redresses, holding his Docs in his right hand as he tiptoes into the hallway, closing the door behind him with a soft _click_.

‘Morning.’

Sander turns, startled, and sees the other alpha leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, holding a mug of coffee in his hand as he gives Sander a quick once-over that feels more like a reprimand without words.

Sander stalls, racking his brain to think what the alpha’s name is, and shifts from foot to foot. ‘Uh, morning...’

‘Senne,’ the alpha offers, along with his free hand. ‘You’re Sander, right?’

‘Yeah. Sorry, man,’ Sander replies and steps forward to shake his hand. ‘I should have remembered-’

‘You going somewhere?’ he adds, squeezing his hand a little harder before letting go, and Sander’s alpha scents how suspicious Senne is. 

‘I was just gonna get some croissants for Robbe…’

For a few moments, Senne’s alpha scans Sander, sizing him up in a prolonged uncomfortable silence, but then eases off, seeming satisfied he’s telling the truth.

‘That’s a nice idea,’ he finally says, and Sander can feel his sincerity, ‘I think he’ll like that.’ 

‘I hope so,’ Sander says, still sensing he’s not free from scrutiny. 

‘Robbe is… I care a lot about him,’ Senne says and Sander senses it’s as much a confession as it is a warning.

‘I’m glad to hear that,’ Sander nods with a smile, ‘I care a lot about him too.’

Any protective streak in Senne’s scent softens into amity, and he gives Sander a small smile. ‘Sounds like you’re as whipped for him as I am for Zoë.’ 

‘She’s your omega?’ Sander asks.

‘Well, yes. Sometimes. Although she’d probably say she belongs to _no one_ ,’ Senne chuckles and adds, ‘I definitely belong to her, though.’ 

They both laugh and Sander can feel Senne’s deep pride and affection when he talks about Zoë, his expression softening as if she was standing right there in front of him, and Sander recognizes a little of himself in Senne too. He hopes he gets to see them together at some point, he already likes them. And though he was under suspicion at first, he appreciates that Senne is defensive around Robbe. Not a jealous kind of defense, like a partner - but more like a brother. Or a Dad, Sander realises. And as he thinks that, he also realises _that_ is what he sensed at the beginning of their conversation: the fierce protection of a caring father figure.

‘Which bakery are you going to?’ Senne asks.

‘Payet Bakkerij, the one near Oudaan?’

‘Hmm, that one is good,’ Senne replies, tapping his coffee mug. ‘But I would say you should go to Lints, for sure.’

Sander blinks at him. ‘Lints?’

‘Yeah, it’s near the Maagdenhuis,’ Senne says, and then adds with a smirk, ‘I think you’ve got some buttering up to do, so I’d start with the _best_ croissants you can find. So - Lints.’

Sander laughs again, and nods at Senne, before turning to the front door, ‘Ok. Lints it is. Thanks, Senne.’

Senne raises his coffee mug to him as he heads back into the kitchen. And Sander has a grin on his face the whole way to the bakery.

He takes out his phone as he gets in line in front of the packed bakery and scrolls through unanswered texts from a worried Amber, guilt washing over him at the lack of replies on his end, hoping that at least the registration that he’d seen the texts had been somewhat reassuring. 

_(10:12)_

Sorry I’ve been such a jerk  
I’m at Robbe’s now  
Don’t worry, I told him  
Thanks for tolerating me 💛

  
  
_Amber (10:15)_

I’m glad you’re safe 💛  
So you told him everything?

  
  
Sander buys a dozen croissants from Lints, and samples one before his bike ride back to Robbe’s - and _wow_ , does Senne know what he’s talking about. These croissants are perfect. He shoves another one in his mouth as he hops on his bike, chewing like a starving wolf, and races back to the apartment. 

He remembers too late that he’s locked out. So he buzzes the apartment, feeling a little foolish for not thinking of asking Senne for a key.

‘Hello?’ 

Robbe’s soft voice immediately makes Sander weak in the knees, his alpha yearning to get back inside the warmth of his omega’s nest. 

‘Robbe!’ Sander replies, a little over eager he realises, ‘I’m back, and I brought food--’

‘Sorry, who is this?’

‘I- It’s Sander.’

‘Hmm. Doesn’t ring a bell. Are you one of Milan’s hookups?’

Sander scoffs, can’t help but smile as he hears the faint laughter of Milan and Senne in the background, realising they’re all in on it. ‘You’re hilarious. Buzz me in?’

‘Try again, alpha,’ Robbe replies cheekily, and Sander can almost _see_ the smirk on Robbe’s face.

There’s a long silence, as Sander realises Robbe’s not giving up the game just yet. So he smiles and takes a deep breath, he too can play that game.

‘Morning Robbe, it’s Sander. You know, the alpha who’s head over heels for you. The alpha who made a terrible mistake and who will do _anything_ to make it up to you,’ he says, before his smile turns into a smirk, and he seductively continues, ‘You know, the alpha who desperately wants you on your _back_ with your long legs _spread_ for me and--’

‘OK! Jesus fuck, ok, fucking hell--!’ Robbe yells through the intercom, as Milan and Senne break into howls of laughter behind him, ‘I’ll buzz you in, jerk.’

Sander smirks victoriously as he walks into the apartment a few minutes later, where Milan and Senne - as predicted - are standing in the hallway with huge grins on their faces, behind a very embarrassed-looking Robbe, hiding his face in his hands.

‘See, I told you,’ Senne whispers quietly to Robbe, ‘It’s all okay, he came back,’ he smiles and squeezes his shoulder and Robbe looks down, blushing a slightly darker tone. 

‘Fresh croissants, anyone?’ Sander breaks the silence, cheerily, holding the bag up next to his head and Robbe finally looks up at him, his deep brown eyes locked on Sander’s, taking his breath away.

‘You…’ Robbe utters through gritted teeth, though he can’t help the smile on his face anyway, and he grabs Sander by his jacket lapels. Sander kisses him, then and there, uncaring that they have an audience. He just wants to show Robbe that he means it. That this time it really is _all the way._ Secretly, he likes the way the public displays of affection make Robbe blush and squirm too.

Robbe surprises him, though, when he twines both arms around Sander’s neck and kisses him hard and deep.

‘Hey, I know the croissants are tasty but…’ Sander jokes.

‘Ooh, Lints!’ Milan says as he grabs the bag from Sander’s hand, ‘Your boyfriend has taste, hmm?’ 

Sander dares a glance over Robbe’s shoulder at Senne, who meets his gaze and nods back with a small smirk, a secret sign of their new camaraderie. 

Robbe, meanwhile, groans impatiently, ‘Alright, come on.’ Then he grabs the croissants back, and takes hold of Sander’s lapel, dragging him into his room.

  
  


**

Robbe guides Sander to the bed, pushing him down gently and Sander lets out a shaky exhale when Robbe straddles him, so soft and delicate and delicious Sander has to fight his urge to grab Robbe’s hips and guide him to where he wants him the most.

‘For a moment there I… I thought you’d left,’ Robbe admits, biting his bottom lip.

‘Really?’ Sander asks, and Robbe just shrugs and nods.

‘You’re not getting rid of me that easy,’ Sander smiles.

‘And what about Chernobyl then?’ Robbe whispers.

‘Chernobyl, _wie_?’ Sander jokes, but the way Robbe holds his gaze tells him he’s not off the hook just yet, ‘It’s in the past, just forget it.’

‘Last time you were here… you just left me,’ Robbe says, and Sander senses a change in his voice, ‘It’s not so easy for me to just forget, Sander.’

‘I’m here now,’ Sander promises, eyes locked on Robbe’s, his alpha ashamed and hopeful all at once, ‘ _Honderd procent_ , ok?’

Robbe’s omega eases at that, and melts into Sander’s embrace, leaving a sweet kiss on his lips. But Sander’s alpha doesn’t want to restrain itself now, not when he’s in Robbe’s nest, feeling like he’s fallen into heaven, the scent of his omega all over the room, all over him. 

He winds his arms around Robbe’s waist, and flips them over, careful to get Robbe’s head on the pillows. Robbe lets out a small gasp as his back hits the mattress, but smiles down at Sander, who edges between his omega’s legs, gently parting them with his knee. 

‘What’s your plan?’ Robbe says, breathless but not without a little challenge in his voice.

Sander smirks up at him, before slowly, deliberately crawling between his thighs, glancing his nose off Robbe’s groin, sternum, chin, nose, taking a long breath in as he gazes at Robbe’s lips, teasing him with a wordless promise, until he whispers, ‘I’m holding on to you.’

He kisses Robbe, slow and soft, savouring the faint taste of his omega.

‘And I’m never letting you go,’ he whispers against Robbe’s lips and he kisses him again, deep and probing this time. 

Feeling so deeply how much his alpha and Robbe’s omega are connected like this, how they blend into each other at the point of contact, how he can sense the edges of fate every time he touches Robbe. He revels in the sound of Robbe’s breath catching, and the bag of croissants dropping to the ground, as Sander pulls his t-shirt out from his boxers, and sneaks his hand beneath the elastic.

He might already be out of breath with how Robbe arches his back into Sander’s touch, his legs parting for his alpha. The smell is so good, so warm and fulfilling, Sander can’t help but trail his mouth down Robbe’s neck, finding the sweet spot that made Robbe go weak the last time, his inflamed scent gland. And as soon as Sander’s lips touch it, Robbe moans - much louder than either of them expected.

‘Too much?’ Sander says, wondering if he’s overdone it.

Robbe’s lips are parted, wet and a little swollen from kissing, and he shakes his head. ‘No, _god_ , no-- please, Sander, I--’

Sensing the deep need in his omega’s scent, Sander tilts his head back to the scent gland, gently circling it with the tip of his tongue. Robbe squirms beneath him, keening and grabbing fistfuls of Sander’s hair, his skin already hot to touch.

The taste. It’s exquisite. Sander wishes he could suck the scent straight from Robbe’s skin, just fill himself with that taste - sweet, maybe even a little bitter, and so deeply satisfying to his thirsty alpha. But instead, he circles around to the other side of Robbe’s neck and licks the gland there. Robbe sighs, and moves his hands to Sander’s jacket, forcing it down his shoulders, eventually off his arms.

‘What do you want, baby?’ Sander gasps, in between taking off Robbe’s shirt and kissing him.

‘Anything,’ Robbe says, pulling at Sander’s belt like a demand.

They undress each other - desperate and unwieldy - until they’re naked, and Sander takes in his omega’s full body for the first time as Robbe lays back on the mattress. And his omega is divine, all soft skin and lean and perfect. He seems momentarily abashed under Sander’s probing gaze, until Sander’s alpha scent bursts in arousal, making Robbe recline against the pillows, stretching his legs out, lengthening his spine, moving his arms above his head, blooming under the attention. 

Sander can hardly believe his eyes. He watches Robbe open up for him, smirking and enjoying the way Sander’s scent spikes with desire. 

And Sander, on his knees between Robbe’s ankles, looking down at him, doesn’t even try to hide how he’s reacting. He knows Robbe can see his cock hardening until it’s flush against his abdomen, and he _lets_ Robbe see. He wants him to know how physical his effect is. He wants Robbe’s omega to understand how much power it has over him, how much he wants to belong to it.

Robbe licks his lips and moves his gaze down from Sander’s eyes, down his throat, his chest, until it focuses on Sander’s cock. The attention makes Sander self-conscious all of a sudden, and he awkwardly tries to cover himself. But Robbe stops him, reaching an arm out to Sander’s chest, letting his fingertips rest on Sander’s ribs, before gently moving them down to his abdomen.

Sander holds his breath, barely keeping himself together at Robbe’s touch, but then Robbe’s hand touches him _there_ and he stutters out a moan. His hand moves of its own accord, resting on top of Robbe’s.

And then Robbe curls his hand into a fist and rests it on top of Sander’s cock. Not around it. On it. Teasing him.

Sander’s breathing is so shallow he feels dizzy. His hands dangle uselessly at his sides as he stares down at Robbe’s fist, and he wants to beg. _An alpha, begging?_ It’s practically unheard of. But Robbe turns everything around for Sander. 

Then, Robbe gets up on his knees, languorously scenting his alpha, before he leans in and kisses Sander. The kiss is deep, wet, demanding, and Sander twists his hands into Robbe’s hair, holding on for dear life, but he barely has a moment to settle before Robbe opens his fist just enough to push it down on Sander’s cock. Tight. And warm. 

Sander gasps, already overstimulated and weak for Robbe’s touch, especially when he’s like _this_. So confident, so sure of what his omega wants.

Robbe eases his hand down Sander’s shaft, and his alpha is delirious with want, rapidly fantasising about Robbe in every position, what he sounds like, what he feels like, what he _tastes_ like--

He says something, just blurts it out, he doesn’t even know what, and then he senses the shift in Robbe’s scent to white heat.

‘Yes,’ Robbe groans, and falls back on the bed again, raising his knees up to his chest. Following him instinctively, Sander covers his omega and licks into his mouth, before Robbe sighs, ‘Say it again.’

‘Say what?’ Sander asks, kissing down Robbe’s throat.

‘Don’t tease me!’ Robbe complains.

‘I’m not, baby,’ Sander says, running his palms up Robbe’s inner thighs, as he gazes down at him, ‘Tell me what you want me to say…’

‘That you wanna eat me out,’ Robbe keens, his back arching, ‘You said you wanted to taste--’

‘Your pussy,’ Sander says, knowing it in his bones that’s what his alpha must have blurted out, ‘Fuck, I _do_ , Robbe.’

He curls his hands under Robbe, and moves him so Robbe is lying across the bed, his legs dangling off the side. 

‘Don’t. Move,’ Sander orders, as he slides off the bed, kneeling on the rug, in between Robbe’s thighs.

‘Oh fuck-’ Robbe moans, dropping his head back and covering his eyes with his arms. ‘ _Fuck_ , man--’

Sander is already light-headed with the concentration of scent down there, it’s so much heavier than normal, and he can’t get enough. He finds Robbe’s scent glands on his inner thighs and runs his cheekbones along them, wanting to live in this moment, even kissing them to get more of that sweetness. Robbe moans, trembling a little at the touch, and Sander holds his breath in anticipation.

He pushes Robbe’s leg wider with his left hand. And as he looks at Robbe’s most intimate place, he’s overwhelmed with the beauty of Robbe open like this for him, overwhelmed with gratitude that he get’s to have this, that Robbe is trusting him with it. He can’t help but part his lips and inhale deeply as he gets closer, feeling the heat warm against his face. 

‘Just put your mouth on me, Sander,’ Robbe whines, ‘Don't tease me!’

‘Trust me, I’m not teasing,’ Sander says, slowly licking two fingers of his right hand and bringing them to Robbe’s pussy. ‘I could stay here all day’ he moans as he runs them along where Robbe is most open, slowly, caressing up his taint and back down, feeling Robbe soften at his fingertips, loving the little shocks that jolt through him and makes him moan. Inching closer with his lips, he feels his mouth go slack and his tongue peeking out.

‘Sander, just-- _ahh--_ ’ 

Robbe doesn’t get a chance to finish, because Sander leans in and covers Robbe’s hole with his tongue and Robbe moans loudly, his paws coming down to Sander’s hair, pulling at it like he needs it, and Sander just keeps his mouth on him for a moment until Robbe starts breathing again, until his hips start moving as if to beg him to do the same. 

He grabs a hold of Robbe’s thighs to steady him, to ground him, as he starts moving his tongue in circles, lapping at him, occasionally curling it inside and just holding it there, feeling Robbe arch his back and open up even more around his tongue, pressing his face closer into the tight wet heat so inviting Sander wants to smother himself in it.

He knows he won’t last. He can barely hold himself together right now. So he focuses all his attention on Robbe, his taste, his _sounds_ , testing out what sensations makes him moan the most.

‘ _F-Fuck_ , S-Sander-’ Robbe gasps and Sander licks into him again and again, wanting to add to his omega’s pleasure, to find all the spots that make his omega squirm and sweat, make his thighs tremble around him.

‘M-more’ Robbe begs and Sander isn’t exactly sure what Robbe is really asking him to do. He tries moving his hand up towards where Robbe’s dick is straining against his stomach, but Robbe’s hand meets him there, squeezing it gently and guiding it down between his legs to where his mouth is and Sander hums in response, to let Robbe know he understands.

Sander teases around his own lips with his fingers, _testing_ , making sure Robbe is ready before pushing two fingers inside to join his tongue there and Robbe _whimpers_ , pulling harder at Sander’s hair and Sander adds another finger, feeling Robbe instantly get even more wet, _drooling_ , and Sander wishes he could stay here, driving Robbe crazy with his mouth, forever. It’s so primal and intimate and perfect, the way Robbe is so sweet and bitter and _hot_ under his lips. 

Sander doesn’t know how long he stays there, loses track of time as he focuses all his attention on sending his omega over the edge, flicking his tongue and fucking his fingers into Robbe in ways that make him moan into the pillow, lips teasing along his hole, lapping at it like it’s a delicious drink - and it is. 

He closes his eyes, kissing the wet heat, licking into it, reveling in how slick it is on his chin, and Sander sucks and kisses it, wanting Robbe to know he’s safe, that he’s going to take care of him.

And then, Sander gets an intense, pulling, pressured sensation in his groin that can only mean one thing.

He silently curses. He should’ve figured out a way to avoid this. Taken some suppressants, maybe, or jerked off in the bathroom first thing, or _anything_. But no. He didn’t think that far ahead. And now, the growing swelling at the base of his cock is giving away just how desperate he is for Robbe. His knot is forming before he’s even inside him. 

‘I’m-- you’re gonna make me cum,’ Robbe whines above him, thankfully jolting Sander out of his thoughts for a moment, and Robbe tilts his hips up to Sander, his paws in his own hair now.

‘Yes I am,’ Sander says, moaning into Robbe as he reminds himself what is really happening, what is important.

And at that, Robbe lets out a long, deep groan, getting louder and louder, until suddenly he takes in a sharp breath, and his whole body freezes, his breath coming out in quick gasps, his taint convulsing under Sander’s nose. And his omega scent just _explodes_. 

It’s with a shock Sander realises Robbe is climaxing, his wet dick completely untouched, and Sander feels his own cock throbbing at the thought, his own release approaching rapidly at the sound of Robbe’s moans that seems to keep coming and coming, but he keeps his mouth on his omega, until Robbe releases and eases back into the bed, shivering and shaking a little from the exertion.

Sander smiles, and relaxes against Robbe’s leg, kissing the skin there, loving how wanton he feels with Robbe’s scent and sex all over his face and hand, even while his knot is throbbing.

‘C’mere,’ he hears from the bed, and sees a vague wave. He laughs, a little punch-drunk from getting his boy to orgasm, and shakily gets back on the bed, ungainly falling on top of Robbe and kissing him, his lips almost numb now, his jaw a little achey from the effort.

‘Now _that_ was--’ Robbe starts, but then just mimes a head explosion with his eyes closed, ‘Chernobyl.’

‘I aim to please,’ Sander chuckles, lying next to him now, trying to catch his breath, but then Robbe suddenly rolls on top of him, sleek as anything, still red from his climax, smiling down at Sander with a mischievous grin. 

‘I wanna make you cum,’ Robbe says, glancing his nose off of Sander’s. ‘I wanna do _you_ now.’

‘Fuck,’ he curses under his breath.

Of course that’s when Robbe notices - can’t help but notice - that Sander’s knot is growing, and the way Robbe’s cheeks burn looking down at it mirrors the blush Sander feels creeping into his own.

Sander glances down at his cock, and he flinches when he sees the protrusion getting larger, almost fully inflated now. Embarrassment flares through him over how little control he still has over it, that he’s so eager and desperate that he’s knotting outside Robbe, in _front_ of him.

‘Oh, um,’ he mumbles, ‘it’s-- ah-- sorry--’

‘Don’t apologise,’ Robbe whispers, still looking down between them, ‘It’s really— it’s so _big’_ he sounds almost in awe.

‘I just got _really_ turned on from eating you out,’ Sander replies, face flushed.

‘You did?’ Robbe looks up at him, wide-eyed.

‘Yeah,’ Sander says, smiling up at his omega.

‘You can’t… control it?’ Robbe asks curiously. ‘I’ve heard some alphas can, some can’t - but it’s hard to know what’s rumor and what isn’t.’

Sander shrugs. He doesn’t like thinking too much about the messier parts of his alpha. But he tries to, for Robbe.

‘It’s involuntary, I think. At least, for me. It happened a lot around the time when I presented as alpha’ Sander says, recalling the numerous times he’d had to cover himself up or cross his legs a young teen pup, ‘It hasn’t really happened for a long time, but recently…’ Sander pauses, not knowing exactly how to say what he’s about to. ‘I think- I think it happens because my alpha is ready…’

He raises his eyebrows, hoping Robbe will fill in the blank. But Robbe comically raises his eyebrows right back, waiting for him to finish.

‘To mate,’ Sander says, with finality, putting his teeth on edge. ‘My alpha just really wants to be _your_ alpha.’

Robbe’s pupils dilate, and his omega purrs, as he leans down and scents Sander, nosing into his hair with obvious possessiveness and comfort, ‘I just want to be your omega,’ he murmurs and Sander kisses him with everything that he is.

‘Can.. uhm- can I touch it?’ Robbe asks, suddenly a little shy and Sander nods, smiling.

Robbe rolls over onto his side, fingers trailing slowly down Sander’s chest and abs to the base of his cock, the touch of his fingertips feather light as his small hand explores the girth of his knot and Sander sighs when he finally takes fully hold of it, or as much of it as he can manage, and Sander forces his eyes open, doesn’t want to miss the sight of it thick in Robbe’s small paw. 

‘It’s.. _wow,_ it’s really _-’_ Robbe looks back up at Sander, his touch firmer and more confident now, ‘It’s supposed to lock us together, right?’ 

‘I-I don’t think I can make it go down right now,’ Sander says, still embarrassed as he puts his hand on top of Robbe’s, halting it. ‘We can’t-- I mean, I don’t think I can--’

‘What, you think I’m _that_ hungry for your knot, hm?’ Robbe teases. But Sander knows he’s not mocking him. He’s trying to ease his nerves. ‘We have all the time in the world’ he smiles, his brown eyes shining and his voice warm with acceptance and Sander wants to cry with how safe he feels, how _enough_ he feels. Instead he kisses Robbe, deep and true, hoping Robbe can feel that even if they haven’t mated yet, Sander is already his. Always was.

‘But I can still make you feel good right?’ Robbe smiles against his lips, ‘You can still cum-’

‘I really-- we don’t have to do anything…’ Sander says, trailing off.

‘Baby,’ Robbe whispers, running the fingers of his free hand through Sander’s hair. ‘I’ll help you relax. If you want me to.’

‘I just…’ Sander sighs and Robbe picks up on his reticence, and frowns. 

‘Is something wrong?’ he asks, withdrawing his hand, eyes searching Sanders, 

‘No!’ Sander says, ‘No, I just-- I don’t always know how to… receive.’

Sander squirms, wanting to accept his omega’s touch like that, but battling between his own self-loathing and his intense desire. He doesn’t know how to give up control that way, control is something he’s had to hold on to no matter what. Bad things happen when he lets go. Always.

But he looks into Robbe’s eyes, and the treacherous part of him desperately doesn’t care if bad things happen now. He wants. He _wants_. More than anything.

‘I just want you to feel what you make _me_ feel,’ Robbe says, his hand coming to rest on Sander’s throat as he kisses him, slow and deep. ‘But if it makes you uncomfortable, we can lie here instead and make out. Or cuddle. Whatever you want.’

‘Ik hou van jou,’ Sander blurts out before he can stop himself, but even if it’s early for love confessions, he knows in his heart it’s true.

In fact, he's sure this can’t be the first time they loved each other. They had to have loved each other before this. Past lives. Future lives. Parallel lives. Sander can feel it like a black star in his memory, mysterious, but ever so present and definite. 

He loved Robbe before. He loves him now. He’ll love him always.

‘I love you too’ Robbe sighs, pulling Sander to him, and Sander’s alpha keens at the feeling of his hair between Robbe’s fingers, his tongue between his teeth, his skin and breath enveloped in scent and omega care. 

Robbe shivers and drags a hand down Sander’s chest. When his fingers glance off Sander’s nipple, and he lets out a surprised cry, the pang of arousal going straight to his dick.

‘Oh, you like that, hm?’ Robbe says, delighted at his discovery, before he ducks his head and covers it with his mouth, sucking gently.

Sander loses his breath instantly. His eyes roll back in his head and he wonders if he might die like this. Then Robbe bites it. Not hard. But enough that Sander’s face twists and he starts to pant, ‘Baby, baby, _shit-’_

Robbe stops and looks up at his alpha, beaming with pride. ‘That’s good to know,’ he says, grinning from ear to ear.

Cupping Robbe’s face with both hands, Sander opens his mouth to say something, wanting Robbe to know everything about him-

‘Too much?’ Robbe asks.

‘No, it’s perfect’ Sander smiles, ‘Just… I think I’d like to wait a little? I just really want to come _with_ you, you know?’ he covers his eyes with his hand and peeks at Robbe through his fingers.

‘I know, me too,’ Robbe assures him. ‘Maybe we can try that later,’ he adds with a wink and nuzzles into him, scenting him again.

‘Absolutely,’ Sander promises, with an amused scoff and pulls Robbe closer still.

‘How do you feel?’ Robbe purrs into his neck, his voice soft and low and Sander knows he’s asking about more than just _right now._

Sander gazes up at the ceiling and sighs, ‘Like the king of the world.’

Robbe pushes himself up on his elbow and leans in over him, brushing a strand of hair away from his face and kisses his lips, his nose, his forehead before whispering, ‘My King.’

The words make something deep in Sander come to a still peace, and he curls into Robbe’s embrace. He kisses Robbe’s throat, teasing the flushed skin there, before he quietly asks, ‘So if I asked you now… would you be my prince?’

Holding him close and leaving another kiss on his temple, Robbe gently replies, _‘Altijd. In elk universum.’_

**

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, startling them both.

Robbe drops his head and mutters, ‘Oh no. They totally heard us.’

‘Yeah maybe,’ Sander replies, pursing his lips and squinting, hoping he’s not too upset.

‘God, they’re never going to let me live it down,’ Robbe sighs.

Then there’s another knock, a little louder this time.

‘What is it?!’ Robbe yells, a surprising hint of possessiveness and omega annoyance seeping into his scent at being interrupted nesting his alpha and Sander can’t help but feel a little proud.

‘We’re just wondering…’ he recognises the voice as Milan’s and he sounds serious, but Sander can’t quite hear if it’s something important.

 _‘What_ Milan?!’ Robbe sighs.

‘Uhm so- were you gonna eat those croissants or...?’ 

***

  
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! 💕  
> We're finally back with another update for you - we're pretty excited about this one but a little nervous too, so please let us know your thoughts on this one! 🙏  
> Tags are updated so make sure to check those. Trigger warnings (several) in end notes.  
> As always, we love all your comments and theories here and on tumblr so don’t hold back 😉💗

***

Sander puts the finishing touches of rosemary and salt onto the chopped potatoes, inhales the soothing scents of fresh herbs and then checks the oven temperature.

He feels like pinching himself. Can hardly believe his luck. He’s been at Robbe’s apartment for nearly five days now, in what feels like a cocoon of bliss, safe from the outside world, immune to any hurt or change. And even if all of them went out of their way to make him feel welcome, made space for him in the fridge, on the bathroom shelves, even if Zoë had cooked him breakfast and Milan had insisted he’d help him pick out his outfit for a date, he can’t help but worry he’s intruding, that he’s overstaying his welcome - despite their insistence he’s not - so Sander’s decided to make dinner for everyone. But most of all for Robbe. 

Robbe, who has barely left his side all week. Robbe, who likes oatmilk in his morning coffee and his croques toasted just this side of too much. Robbe, who steals Zoë’s coconut shampoo and Milan’s rose-scented face mist, when he thinks no one is watching. Robbe, who puts a comforting arm around him and purrs quietly in his sleep, when Sander’s having a bad dream, almost like he knows. Robbe who’s so soft and pliant in his hands, so delicious in his mouth, that Sander can hardly believe he’s even real. 

Excited to surprise him later, Sander checks his phone again. Just to make sure the hotel booking is still confirmed. Just to make sure it’s still five stars. 

His gaze shifts from his phone to the tiny table in the kitchen, realising they’ll have to eat on the chairs in the living room. So, he puts out the plates and cutlery and wine, hoping they’ll imagine it as a fancy buffet. 

He’s planning a roast, and he’s spent most of the afternoon prepping the chicken and seasoning the vegetables, while Robbe’s been studying in his room, which was Sander’s other motivation for making dinner. He knows he can get away with not doing uni work, but Robbe can’t skip homework so much without punishment. And he doesn’t want to get in the way. Not when everything is finally settling into place.

Once he washes up, he checks the time, and puts an alarm on his phone for when the vegetables need to go in the oven - about 45 minutes before the chicken is ready. With a smile, he decides to go bother Robbe for attention. It’s been a whole hour since he last got a kiss.

Apron still on, he goes into Robbe’s room, and finds his boyfriend sitting at the big desk in the bay window, headphones on, typing on Messenger. He feels less bad about interrupting now.

Without a word, he walks over to him, swings a leg over and sits square in Robbe’s lap. Robbe laughs, surprised for a moment, and then takes off his headphones with a grin, and wraps his arms around Sander’s waist.

‘Bored of cooking for me, wifey?’ he asks.

Sander scoffs, pushes at him in feigned indignation, and then melts into his arms anyway when Robbe noses closer for a kiss. He tastes like coffee. And he smells like something sweet, something warm. Sander can’t even help it, he cups Robbe’s face and lightly bites his bottom lip, licking into his mouth, moving their kiss into a full make-out session.

Robbe chuckles against his lips and leans back. ‘Hey, I’m still studying.’

‘You’re texting your friends,’ Sander counters, still kissing him.

‘I was-’ Robbe mumbles, against the onslaught of Sander’s mouth, ‘I was checking something with Jens-’ 

‘And now you’re checking something with _me_ , _’_ Sander grins.

He feels Robbe melt under him with the slight assertion, his scent spiking with a sudden arousal Sander knows all too well himself. 

They’ve been holding off on that next step, wanting not to push it, deciding together to just enjoy each other, minute by minute, and wait until it feels just right. And even if Sander feels the need to be close, to be _claimed_ by Robbe, growing exponentially with every kiss, every lingering touch, every taste of his omega -- and even if Robbe’s keeps smelling better, _stronger_ , keeps sounding increasingly needy, increasingly _ready_ , Sander doesn’t want to push him. Doesn’t want to fuck up. So instead he changes his tone, teasing.

‘I’ve been slaving over a hot stove all day,’ he pouts, as Robbe laughs, ‘the least you can do is cuddle me until dinner is ready.’

For a moment, Robbe scans his face, and then takes a big inhale, and Sander realises his omega is trying to read his scent. It fills him with unconditional love, that someone wants to take care of him. That someone takes care to know him that way. 

‘What can you smell?’ Sander asks, quietly, as if it’s a secret.

Robbe smiles, a little shy now at being caught out, and says, ‘The sea.’

‘Huh?’

‘Your scent. You smell like the sea.’

‘Oh!’ Sander huffs, realising Robbe can probably smell the sea salt and the fresh herbs on his hands, ‘I thought- I mean, it seemed a little like you were trying to read my alpha,’ he shrugs, smiling, suddenly feeling a little ridiculous for assuming.

‘I was,’ Robbe answers with a laugh.

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah. And right now, I could sense that your alpha is … I don’t know what the right word is, when it’s more of a feeling. Maybe, contentment? I don’t know. Something like that. Or nearer satisfaction. Like, the feeling you get after you’ve been starving and then you finally get to eat a delicious meal.’

‘You are _correct_ ,’ Sander smirks, eyebrows raised as he leans in for another filthy kiss, and he knows Robbe can hear the double entendre in his tone.

‘But… more generally,’ Robbe speaks against his lips and Sander pulls back slightly to meet his gaze, ‘Your scent... it smells like the sea. Like…’ 

He trails off, biting his lip and blushing a bit, and Sander is burning with curiosity. They haven’t had this conversation yet and it feels like a big one. It feels like they’re telling each other when they fell in love.

‘Like, salt on the air, and driftwood. Like, sea buckthorn and cool breezes, smoky bonfires and citrus. Just - yeah. Like the sea.’

Robbe glances up at Sander, having gazed away through his whole explanation, and Sander’s heart beats a little bit faster.

‘We met at the sea,’ he says, barely more than a whisper.

‘Yeah I think that’s why,’ Robbe answers, just as quietly. ‘You remind me of… well. The days I was finally true to myself. You helped me become who I am. I remember it every time I smell your scent.’

Sander twines his fingers in Robbe’s hair and presses their foreheads together, his eyes squeezed shut as he tries to imprint this moment on his memory forever. There’s no way Robbe is not his soulmate. In this universe. In every universe.

‘What do I smell like to you?’ Robbe asks, his voice gentle still, his hands just as gentle on Sander’s thighs. Sander moves his hands down to rest on them, craving the skin-on-skin touch, and Robbe interlaces their fingers.

‘You smell like… warmth,’ Sander says finally, ‘Like, fresh bread out of the oven. All mouth-watering and buttery. And sweet, like honeysuckle and cinnamon. But you can smell earthy too, like rain on grass or basil cut from the stem.’

‘What does that even mean?’ Robbe chuckles.

‘You smell like what I think home should smell like,’ Sander says, the words coming out of his mouth before he’s even aware of them. He shocks himself, his eyes widening as he looks at Robbe, looking back at him. 

There’s a long pause, where they’re both silent, until Robbe’s eyes soften and Sander can feel something like a blanket wrapped around him, even where there is none. It takes him a second to realise Robbe’s omega has pulled him into its protection, like an invisible barrier that binds the two of them together. Just like he did back at the beach house.

‘You’ll always have a home with me,’ Robbe whispers, cradling Sander’s face in his hands, leaving a soft kiss on his lips.

He kisses Sander again and again, just pressing their lips together, and letting his omega bathe Sander in care and affection. It’s a little overpowering. Sander’s alpha doesn’t know whether to howl or curl up in its omega’s nest, scenting it possessively. 

‘Come here,’ Robbe says at last, easing Sander up, taking his apron off, and bringing him over to the unmade bed. ‘Let’s lie down for a bit.’

As soon as they get under the duvet, Robbe pulls Sander into his chest, letting his ear rest right above his heart, and purrs soothingly, gently rocking him back and forth trying to calm the alpha’s overwhelm. 

‘I love you so much, Robbe,’ Sander says, his voice cracking a little.

‘I love you,’ Robbe says, pulling him closer still. ‘If only you knew how much,’ he adds, pressing a kiss to his forehead, nosing into his hair. 

‘You know…’ Robbe sighs quietly into the ice blond mane, biting his bottom lip like he’s gathering the courage to speak, ‘You know, I didn’t always like being an omega,’ he admits, his scent a little guarded. ‘My mom is an omega and my beta dad… well he would always use it against her when she was upset, like he would call her emotional and weak...’ he says, his voice trembling slightly, and Sander takes his hand.

‘So when I presented-’ Robbe holds his breath, and Sander holds it with him, squeezing his hand as he feels his chest clench at the memory of himself presenting. ‘I hated it, Sander. I hated my omega,’ he breathes out and Sander tilts his head back to meet his eyes. ‘I thought _I_ was weak, and that everyone would end up leaving me, just like my dad had left my mom, left us, over and over again.’ 

‘So when I left that morning...’ Sander jaw clenches and he feels his stomach drop, ‘I’m so sorry Robbe, I didn’t mean to make you feel-’

‘That’s the thing, I didn’t’ Robbe stops him, his hand coming down to cup Sander’s face. ‘I didn’t feel weak. I was confused, yes, and angry too. But I didn’t feel weak. I felt like I was finally true to myself and to what I wanted. Who I am. Noor could feel the difference too when I talked to her. I was… I was _strong_.’ 

‘You’re the strongest boy I know,’ Sander smiles up at Robbe, leaning into his omega’s touch.

‘And you know what?’ Robbe smiles down to him, ‘It made me realize my mom is strong too. Do you know she checked herself into an institution? That’s why I’ve been living here for a while.’

‘Oh,’ Sander’s eyes widen a little, ‘No, I didn’t. Do you- do you still talk to her?’

‘Yes, of course. I visit her every weekend,’ Robbe nods, ‘She’s starting to get back on her feet now that my dad finally left for good.’

‘Did you- uhm I mean, does she-’

‘Yes, I told her about you,’ Robbe smiles wide, and Sander blushes a bit, ‘I even showed her a picture of the mural,’ he laughs and Sander can’t help but laugh too, equally proud and embarrassed at the thought.

‘And talking to her about you, about me, about everything, I realised… you can’t run from your true nature...’ Robbe says, brushing a strand of hair away from Sander’s face and Sander swallows hard and drops his gaze, ‘...and for the first time ever really, I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to run from who I am. It’s why I came back looking for you that night. It’s why we’re here now.’

A small silence passes between them and Sander feels the weight of the moment, his heart bursting with unconditional love and gratitude.

‘So what you’re _really_ saying...’ he says in a teasing tone, gaze falling on Robbe’s lips, ‘It’s actually your mom I should be cooking dinner for.’ 

He pulls back teasingly when Robbe leans in for a kiss and Robbe whines adorably just as the alarm on his phone goes off. 

‘Speaking of dinner,’ Sander grins, pushing himself up off the bed.

‘So you’re just gonna leave me now? _Really_?!’ Robbe’s pout quickly turns into a smile.

‘No. Not in this universe,’ Sander walks back and kisses Robbe with everything he’s got, everything he is. 

‘Not in any universe.’

  
  


**

‘Mmhh this is so delicious, Sander,’ Milan hums, taking another bite of chicken, ‘So when’s your heat coming up, Robbe, should be pretty soon right?’ he says, gesturing at Robbe for him to pass the wine.

‘Milan!’ Robbe blushes, but hands him the bottle anyway. 

‘What?’ Milan shrugs, pouring himself a glass and then Sander, ‘There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Robbe. Heats are beautiful. And it’s not like you get all pissy like this one-’ Milan nods at Zoë and she scowls back at him, ‘You’ll just get a little whiny and needy, it’s perfectly natural for such a young omega.’

‘Like you don’t get whiny and needy?!’ Zoë bites back, taking the bottle from him and pouring herself a glass.

‘Yeah, Milan,’ Senne laughs. ‘I distinctly remember you demanding I’d go get you three croissants because-‘

‘Excuse me, I was _starving_ , Senne! What was I supposed to do?!’ Milan huffs in feigned offense, ‘You're the alpha around here, you’re supposed to take care of us you know-’

‘Not the only alpha anymore,’ Senne nods at Sander with a wink and Sander smiles back, feeling a little taller, a little lighter at those words, a little warmer when he feels Robbe’s small hand finding his under the table.

‘So, this special date tonight,’ Milan interrupts, pointing at the two of them, ‘What’s the occasion huh? Something _big_ coming up?’ he teases and Robbe sighs, eye-rolling.

‘What’s _coming up_ is none of your business, Milan! And it’s not a _special_ date, we’re just going out for a beer, right Sander?’

  
  


**

‘Tadaa,’ Robbe raises his hands in pretense as he makes the peanut suddenly disappear and recovers it from behind his ear, and Sander laughs at the impromptu magic trick and feels his heart flutter at the sight of his omega, so free and beautiful, he can’t help but cup his face as Robbe feeds him the peanut and leans in to trace his small paw along Sander’s jaw.

They’re at Sander’s favorite bar and Robbe still has no idea about the surprise, even if he seemed a little suspicious when Sander insisted on bringing his green duffel bag on their date. 

Sander chuckles at the thought, still a little nervous about Robbe’s reaction to the gesture, a little worried he’ll think it’s too much even if Milan assured him he’d love it. But most of all, he’s giddy with excitement of finally getting the chance to be completely alone with Robbe for an entire weekend.

Feeling the thrumming of the bass in his feet, and his heart pounding in his chest, he grabs a hold of Robbe’s hand and kisses the tips of his fingers, sensing the slight tremble in Robbe’s body as his teeth graze along his skin, seeing how his omega instinctively tilts his head back, exposing his neck to Sander. He gently bites down on Robbe’s fingers and Robbe gasps in response. 

None of them have to say anything, Sander knows what his omega is saying, whispering, what it’s _offering_ , and he feels Robbe’s scent deepening as he traces a finger along his collarbone and up the soft skin of his neck. It’s subtle, almost like a secret dance, but it feels profound in a way Sander can’t quite explain. It feels like his alpha and Robbe’s omega are already connected at their core, and even if right now it’s only for him to see, only for the two of them to know, there’s nothing he wants more than to shout it from the top of his lungs, from every rooftop in Antwerp, that Robbe is his omega. That _he_ is Robbe’s alpha. That they are _one_. 

Sander leans in closer, fingers playing in Robbe’s hair, his hand pressed firmly against the scent gland on Robbe’s neck, slick and warm against his palm and Sander feels his mouth water as he inches closer, nosing at Robbe’s skin, his scent soothing and seducing in equal measure, seeping into Sander through every pore and he wants to _soak_ in it.

‘Your scent… you’re like a wet dream,’ Sander breathes against Robbe’s ear and kisses it, sucking his earlobe in between his teeth and Robbe mewls into his neck, kneading his shirt, and Sander can tell he’s aching too. 

‘Sander...’ he whimpers, guiding Sander’s hand to the scent gland on his inner thigh, damp through his pants, his own hand searching further up in between his legs, ‘I’m- I think…’ he lets out a shaky exhale, heat and scent stronger with every inch, every breath, every beat of their hearts.

‘Let’s get out of here,’ Sander whispers into his ear, ‘I have a surprise for you.’

Robbe melts at his touch, soft and a little shaky now, and Sander realises he’ll have to help him up on his feet.

‘Kom,’ he whispers.

  
  


**

‘Where are we going, Sander?’ Robbe giggles, as they step out of the convenience store where they had stopped to get refreshments and toothpaste. 

‘I said, it’s a surprise,’ Sander teases, and Robbe squeals as Sander picks him up and carries him on his back to where their bikes are parked.

‘You know what I want right now?’ Robbe murmurs into his neck, arms braced around him, and Sander stops at the bike stand, gently letting Robbe back down on his feet. 

‘Real gin-tonic?’ he suggests teasingly, gesturing at the bag in his hand but Robbe just shakes his head and steps closer, pressing himself up against Sander, a little more confident now.

‘No, something better,’ Robbe whispers against his lips and kisses him, his soft lips enveloping Sander’s with overwhelming sweetness.

‘Tell me what you want, baby,’ Sander smiles into the kiss and deepens it, savoring the taste of Robbe’s lips, his soft tongue.

‘You’re not-’ Robbe moans breathlessly in between kisses, pawing at Sander’s jacket collar.

‘I’m not what?’ Sander chuckles, pulling Robbe closer still as he licks into his mouth.

‘No...’ Robbe chuckles, his small hand reaching down to palm at Sander’s cock through his pants, already half-hard just from kissing, ‘Your _knot_ , Sander. I want it.’ 

Sander gasps, and it feels like something inside him just burst, a burning heat spreading through his body as his heart starts racing, his senses heighten, and it feels like every cell in his body is vibrating with the need to be with his omega.

‘You- you’re sure?’ he stutters, feeling his knees give out slightly under him.

‘Yes, I’m sure,’ Robbe tilts his head back and smiles, ‘Can we go now?’

‘Yeah- yes. Uhm the surprise, I’ve booked this-’ 

Sander freezes as he suddenly senses they’re not alone anymore. His alpha’s hackles are up, but he doesn’t fully know why yet-

‘Aw you hear that, guys?’ Sander registers the voice behind him before he sees them, ‘Little doggie wants to get knocked up’ he voice says, cold and malicious, accompanied by hollow laughter. 

There are no scents, besides cheap cologne and alcohol. Betas. Drunk.

‘Robbe, get your bike,’ he instructs as his alpha scans the space around them for ways to escape. He knows a single beta doesn’t stand a chance against an alpha, but four, six? He makes sure he’s between the betas and Robbe, as they try and get to their bikes. His alpha aggression is already rising - but he can feel it laced with cold fear. 

‘I bet it’s already wet,’ another voice crows, and Sander feels them closing in on him. They’re older, but not by much, and they’re drawn to Robbe, he can feel it. Not because of his scent, but because of the power they feel over him, because he makes them feel superior.

He wants to speak but he is too scared of anyone touching Robbe. His hands fumble with the bike lock as he tries to calculate his next move. Robbe is scared too, he can sense the terror in his scent. It twists him inside, knowing that he led them into danger, even if he couldn’t have known that’s what would happen. He already feels the terrible weight of guilt.

‘What, can’t the dogs talk? Can you only bark or howl, hm?’ 

Sander’s alpha growls, he can’t even help it, one of them is getting close enough to reach out. He turns with an arm out in defense, shielding Robbe with his body.

‘Leave us alone,’ he says, but one of the smaller ones takes a final swig of his drink, throws the glass bottle into the gutter, and murmurs, ‘Or what, alpha? You gonna show us your big bad teeth, wolfie?’

Robbe gets the bike unlocked and swings a leg over, urgently whispering to Sander to get on the back. But Sander already knows they won’t get far. This will be a fight whether he likes it or not.

‘I’ve heard omegas got the best pussy,’ another one pipes up, ‘I bet it’s even a virgin, all tight. You want me to check-’

And that’s when Sander lets go. He rounds on that beta and punches him with all his upper body strength, satisfied with the crunch of the nose breaking and the rest of him falling to the ground like an empty sack. But then the other four jump on them. 

It’s a dark horror, feeling so vulnerable to violence, but Sander doesn’t focus on anything but Robbe. The bigger beta has Sander in a choke-hold, two others are holding Robbe as the fourth inches closer to put his hands on Robbe.

‘Let him _go_!’ Sander screams, fighting against the beta holding him back. ‘Don’t fucking _touch him_ -’

The beta touching Robbe has a hand on his throat, his thumb pressing against his scent gland - and Sander could spit blood. 

‘ _S-Sander_ ’ Robbe sniffles quietly as the betas hand reaches down for his waist, to pull down his jeans.

Sander inhales through his teeth and all at once, he can feel the full power of his alpha, exacerbated by fear and empowered by anger. He bellows out a scream and then sinks his teeth into the beta’s arm around his neck, tearing the skin, until it meets bone, and then cracks it. 

He watches it all occur as if it’s not really happening to him, and he allows the distance. It means he has the strength to dislodge his attacker’s arm from its socket, and feel him fall to the ground on his knees. 

Sander runs to Robbe’s attacker, and tackles him, outwardly furious, inwardly calm, as he pinpoints the most vulnerable parts, and targets them. First he fractures his jaw, then he breaks his thumbs. Sander does it swiftly, clinically. He realises, distantly, that he’s dropped into alpha space. It’s not really him in control now. 

As he stands up and wheels around to find the others, he sees the two of them still holding Robbe between them. His alpha almost laughs. Have they learned anything about him by now? He’ll stop at _nothing_.

He stalks forward, and the beta on the left tries to hit him. Sander takes hold of his hand, and pulls back three of his fingers until he hears them crack. The other beta jumps in but Sander kicks him in the groin, as he twines his own hand in the first beta’s hair and rips it from his head, punching him until he’s on his back, blood streaming and eye swollen. The last beta staggers upright from the kick, and tries to turn and run. But Sander is quicker. He runs a few steps after him, catches him by the collar, and throws him into the street, putting his hands around the beta’s neck and choking him without a word. 

It’s only then Sander notices Robbe’s cries, ‘Sander- Sander, don’t- Leave it, leave them- please, Sander-’

That’s when he feels the tears streaming from his eyes, hears the stuttered sobs he’s making, and comes back into his body at last, now the immediate threat is gone. He stops, and jerks back from the beta - who sputters and coughs as he lets go - and his alpha shrinks, horrified by the devastation around him, the pile of four beaten betas all helpless and crushed as they curl away from him. They’re terrified of his aggression, his ruthlessness. And he’s terrified too, at the bloody proof of his own violence.

‘Sander, you’re shaking--’

He feels weak, now. His limbs are frail as Robbe tries to get him to his feet. 

‘We need to go to the hospital,’ Robbe whispers, petting Sander’s hair, kissing his head and trying to soothe him, ‘You’re-’

‘I’m fine,’ Sander insists. ‘I’m fine. Let’s get you home.’

‘Sander-’

‘C’mon,’ he says, taking hold of Robbe’s hand and his duffel bag, walking purposefully away from their crumpled attackers. ‘We’re leaving this shit where we found it.’

**

Once he walks Robbe home, insisting he’s ok and that their surprise can wait, he makes an excuse that he needs to be alone and soothe his alpha, just to counteract the fight. Robbe tries his best to get Sander to stay with him, but Sander convinces him he needs privacy, just until he’s sure his alpha is calm, and then he’ll come back. He promises himself, as much as Robbe.

The walk to Stuivenberg is one Sander knows all too well. So well, his mind isn’t concentrated on the walk at all. 

He didn’t know his alpha could still do that, he didn’t know his alpha could be so vicious after all those years, even in alpha space. And it doesn’t explain … did he really tear through skin and crack bone with just his teeth? He holds his head between his hands, more confused than ever, and almost as petrified as he was back in the alley, as terrified as he was back when he first discovered this side of himself. His anxiety is at a peak, fueled by the terror and guilt and disgust that he’s become what he’d always tried to fight against. 

As he walks into the hospital, blood on his clothes, his eyes sunken and raw, he already knows to go to the third floor reception, where the lady behind the counter looks up at him, her face pale and surprised. 

‘...Sander?’ 

And just like that, his legs give out. He loses consciousness as kind hands lift him onto a bed.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: attempted assault, violence, blood, unconsciousness


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! 💕  
> We're finally back with another update - our longest chapter yet yay! 🙌  
> Once again, thanks so much to everyone who's following along this lil story, we love each and every comment and ask we get - we hope you're ready for these final few chapters, it's gonna be a ride babes! 😉😘

***

**00:41**

***Milan Hendrickx added Sander Driesen to 💖 The Den 💖***

  
  


Milan Hendrickx: Sander honey 🥺

Zoë Loockx: Robbe told us what happened 💔

Senne De Smet : what the fuck man, are you ok??

Robbe Ijzermans: guys, I specifically told you NOT to make a big deal out of it 

Milan Hendrickx: But you’re our baby, Robbe, you’re our BABIES!!

Zoë Loockx: Milan 🙄 we just want to make sure you’re ok

Senne De Smet: yeah Sander, if you wanna talk you know where to find me

Zoë Loockx: And that would be on the couch

Milan Hendrickx: Zoëëë you’re so mean! It’s just cookies, have mercy on the poor guy 😭

Zoë Loockx: No ❤️

Robbe Ijzermans: I think Sander’s sleeping guys, we should do the same 😘

Milan Hendrickx: ugh ok 😒 we love you Sander!! 💖💘💝💕💞💓💗 

  
  
  


**06:02**

You guys are the best 💛

  
  
  


**

  
  


‘Hey cutie’ 

Sander smiles as Robbe’s face lights up the screen, all sleep-drunk and soft. He’s still in bed, curls mussed, cuddling into the blanket like a little croissant in a tissue and once again Sander feels an overwhelming need to protect him, _his_ omega.

Sander’s sitting at the bottom of the stairs to the emergency exit, furthest away from the main entrance to the hospital building. It’s a place he knows like the back of his hand, even though he hasn’t been here for years. A place he’d usually go to seek seclusion and solitude, _silence_. The dark, chilly hallway mirroring his insides, as he prepares himself for the conversation he’s about to have.

‘Sander, baby,’ Robbe yawns, rubbing his eyes, ‘It’s early, you ok?’

‘Couldn’t sleep,’ Sander says, gazing softly at the way Robbe looks in the morning, ‘I just had to see you.’

‘Well you could’ve slept _here_ , you know.’ Robbe cocks an eyebrow, not disguising the slight annoyance in his voice, before his expression softens again. ‘How are you?’ 

‘I’m fine. A bit stiff, a couple of bruises on my hands, no biggie,’ Sander shrugs, hoping Robbe doesn’t hear the tremble in his voice, doesn’t sense the way his chest clenches at the memory of last night and the thought of having put Robbe in danger. 

He sighs heavily, ‘Robbe, I-’

‘No,’ Robbe interrupts him, his voice warm but firm, and for a moment Sander just stares at him, just lets his heart fill with that infinite unconditional love, one last time. He realises more strongly than ever that even if Robbe can never fully be his, _he_ is Robbe’s. Irrevocably.

‘I know what you’re about to say, and I’m not letting you,’ Robbe says, firmly, for a moment pausing Sander’s raging thoughts.

‘You think you’re responsible for what happened last night, but you’re not. What happened isn’t your fault.’

_What happened isn’t your fault._

Sander flinches a little, the words a hollow echo inside him like a ghost from the past.

‘I- I lost control, Robbe,’ Sander sighs, feeling tears press behind his eyes, ‘I can’t protect you when I’m-’

‘But you _did,_ ’ Robbe says, brown eyes glinting with confidence and something else, patience maybe, as they fix back on his, ‘You _did_ protect me. Aside from the fact that you fought off five vicious predators alone, every time you came near me you put a hand out to try and soothe me, or shield me from them. How could that be losing control?’

‘I wanted- I wanted to _kill_ them, Robbe. Hell, in another universe I probably did-’

‘But we’re in _this_ universe, Sander. We’re here, _now_ . And you didn’t kill anyone, you saved us, you saved _me,'_ Robbe insists, cajoling now, ‘You said you’d never let me go, and I’m not letting you now. Not in this universe, okay?’ 

A small silence passes between them and Sander tries to believe him. Tries to understand that he never put his omega in harm’s way. He doesn’t remember much of the fight, only the urge to break as many beta bones as need be. But he also knows he’s got a track record of putting too much pressure on himself to be _better_ , to be _exceptional_ , to make up for everything he’s not. And Robbe doesn’t want an argument first thing in the morning.

‘Okay,’ Sander sighs, his hands still sore from the fight and empty with how much he wants to hold Robbe right now.

‘I love you, Sander. And you love me. That’s all that matters, right?’ Robbe smiles and Sander closes his eyes, taking a deep grounding breath, wanting with his entire being to believe his omega.

‘That’s all that matters,’ he says, with a small smile.

Robbe checks his clock, and groans. ‘Ugh, I have to get up. I’m gonna visit my mom this morning, and then _you_ are coming over to mine,’ he says, expectantly, and Sander huffs out a laugh.

‘So bossy,’ he grins, feeling a little relieved now, knowing that Robbe is safe and well, knowing Robbe still loves him despite everything that had happened. 

‘Someone’s pushy and thirsty first thing in the morning huh?’ Sander teases, ‘Can’t imagine what it’s gonna be like when you’re-’ 

‘In heat?’ Robbe guesses, ‘Well, that’s the thing…’ Robbe twists around to find his glass of water, and Sander spots the light flush on Robbe’s neck, suddenly noticing the way his scent glands look inflamed as he tips his chin up to empty the glass. 

He pauses, intrigued by Robbe trailing off like that. His omega seems preoccupied, but gazes back into the camera to tell Sander the truth.

‘I felt it all day yesterday... and last night, when we were making out,’ Robbe admits, biting his bottom lip, ‘Like I was going into heat. With the fight and everything after, it got derailed a bit, but when I got home I checked my temperature and it was high. It’s a bit early, but I checked it again this morning and it definitely keeps rising. And I’m… I can’t stop thinking about you, at the bar, your hand on my thigh, Sander, and your mouth on- on my neck,’ Robbe’s breath stutters a little, almost like he’s reliving it for a moment.

‘And that thing I said-’ he pauses, and Sander waits, knowing what Robbe means, but wanting him to say it anyway.

‘About wanting you… about wanting your knot, I-’

Sander takes a shaky inhale. He remembers vividly how urgent it had felt to get Robbe alone, to shield them from the outside world, to let his alpha finally merge with his omega, and he knows that’s at least partly why he was so violent with their attackers. 

‘I took a temporary suppressant just to get some sleep, but my heat is coming, Sander,’ Robbe explains, worrying his bottom lip. ‘I… I don’t want to make demands of you, but I- I would really like for you to be here. We don’t have to do anything, but I don’t want to go through another heat on my own. Not when I don’t have to. Not when I have you. I still have you, don’t I?’

‘ _Altijd_ ,’ Sander smiles, his heart blooming with how badly he wants to be near Robbe now. 

He’s interrupted by the rustle of a door handle somewhere further up the stairs and looks up for a moment, until the sound disappears again.

‘Who’s that? Amber?’ Robbe asks curiously.

‘I’ll be with you as soon as I can,’ Sander smiles, ‘Maybe we can still make use of that surprise I had for you.’

‘The surprise!’ Robbe says, his face lighting up. ‘I’d almost forgotten. Are you ever gonna tell me what it is? All I know is my toothbrush is gone, and I had to steal one of Milan’s stock of disposable ones for his hook-ups,’ Robbe grimaces, then eyes him suspiciously, ‘Oh and my favorite t-shirt to sleep in-’

‘Technically, that’s _my_ t-shirt,’ Sander laughs.

‘Well it’s mine now,’ Robbe tilts his head, smiling triumphantly, and Sander melts at the sight.

‘I’ll tell you soon, promise,’ he whispers softly, making a kissing gesture at the screen.

They look at each other for a moment, before Robbe’s voice gets soft and warm around the words, ‘I love you.’

‘And I love you,’ Sander says, ‘That’s all that matters.’

**

‘Sander Driesen,’ she sighs, smiling, her voice genuinely warm, and Sander likes that her accent still has that familiar sing-song effect to it, ‘It’s been a while.’

‘Six years, yeah.’ Sander shifts in the armchair, it feels familiar too, but slightly smaller now that he’s grown up. 

‘You’re counting?’ she laughs, tilting her head, before she glances at the computer screen again.

‘You know I like to keep track of things,’ Sander says, trying to silence the voice in his head that says he’s a failure for ending up back here. 

He feels restless, even if her presence is as comforting as always. He keeps looking around the room, noticing things that are different. New plants, new books, a framed family photo with two small kids. Julie is a mom now. 

‘How’s your hand?’ she asks, gazing down at his bruised knuckles.

‘It’s good.’

‘Good?’ she frowns, still smiling though, ‘Sander, you know how this goes. I’ll just keep asking until you get bored enough to tell me the truth.’ 

She leans back, smile never faltering, just like Sander remembers her. For a moment he wonders if she might be the one person in the world besides Robbe that knows him the best. Even after six years of no contact.

‘Okay you caught me, it fucking hurts,’ Sander makes a gesture with his bruised hand and sighs, a small smile forming on his lips at the familiarity of the conversation and the irony of it all, ‘Definitely prefer hands over teeth, though.’

She just nods, silently getting up from her chair to move over to sit in the chair next to him instead. Because she knows that’s what he prefers when they talk about the hard stuff. Hands, teeth. Love, loss. That he prefers to not be alone, when he’s about to face the truth.

‘I’m glad you came here this time,’ she puts her hand on his arm, squeezing gently, gazing over across the desk and out the window, like him.

‘I wish I didn’t have to,’ he sighs.

‘Shit happens,’ she shrugs.

‘Yeah.’

They sit like this for a while, next to each other, just staring out the window into the horizon in silence.

‘Your blood work came back,’ she says then, ‘Mild traces of alcohol, no drugs. A rut coming on, probably.’

‘What?’ Sander turns to look at her, wide-eyed.

‘You sound surprised,’ she hums, still gazing out the window. 

‘I just- I didn’t-’ he stutters.

‘You didn’t think you could, anymore?’ she asks, her gaze seemingly tracing along the clouds outside, almost like she’s offering him a moment to breathe before that final blow, ‘How long have you been taking illegal suppressants, Sander?’ 

It feels like a punch in the gut, like she’s seeing straight through him, and Sander holds his breath, waiting, searching for judgement in her voice. He finds none, not a single trace of disdain or disapproval, and if he did, he decides he might as well be honest now. All the way or no way, as she used to say.

‘Ever since…’ he says, quietly, shaking his head a little, running his palms along his knees.

‘Mmm,’ she just nods, understanding, and he’s relieved she seems to let him off easier than he thought, doesn’t force him to explain that choice further, at least until she asks, ‘And, more importantly maybe, why did you stop?’ 

He takes another deep breath, lets his mind wander back to that night, by the trucks, and the decision he made the next morning, to flush the whole thing down the toilet. Every single pack of that month’s supply of thick capsules he’d bought from his dealer behind Centraal.

‘I just- I saw him, one night, and I just- because of the pills, I couldn’t catch his scent out of everyone else’s. I felt numb, and I- I just wanted to be able to smell him, I just really hoped - no, I _knew_ \- I knew he was the one.’ 

Sander lets out a shaky exhale, and for the first time since she sat down next to him, Julie turns to gaze back at him, her expression soft and open.

‘What’s his name?’ 

‘Robbe,’ Sander whispers.

‘He sounds wonderful,’ she smiles, turning her body a bit more towards him now, ‘Was he with you last night?’

‘Yeah,’ Sander admits, a sob tearing at his throat as tears start spilling down his cheek.

‘Do you want to tell me about it?’ she asks calmly, waits, and for the first time in a long time, maybe ever, Sander actually _does_ want to tell somebody. Does want to tell her everything. Then maybe he can work up the courage to tell Robbe everything, too. 

He explains it to her, in explicit, unrelenting detail. Julie already knows the stuff that came before - about his dad, his mom, about the accident when he was 6, about his very first rut when he was 13 - so he can get straight to the heart of the problem. His violence. His alpha. As usual.

‘Sander,’ Julie says, as he finishes his explanation. ‘There’s absolutely nothing wrong with how your alpha reacted last night. What happened isn’t your fault.’

_What happened isn’t your fault._

He stares at her. Speechless at first, then skeptical at her ease. ‘What happened wasn’t my fault? How does everyone keep saying that?! How could it _not_ be my fault? I--’

‘You were out, at night, with Robbe, your omega. It was dark. You’d been drinking. You were set upon by five malevolent predators. _Five_ , Sander. Looking to cause trouble with you and attack your _vulnerable_ omega. They made their intentions clear from the beginning about what they wanted. Your alpha sensed the threat and protected you. Yes, it was violent, but what struck me listening to your story is that you did not use force until they threatened to violate Robbe. That’s when your alpha came through, correct?’

‘Ye- yeah I guess?’ Sander frowns, not really seeing how this eliminates his guilt.

‘Don’t you see? Your alpha is already bonding with Robbe’s omega. You said he’s going into heat, right? That’s why you’re about to go into rut too. It’s all connected, Sander. It’s natural that you would protect your omega when in danger. And for a bonded alpha - I’m not surprised you broke some bones.’

Sander tries to take in her words but he’s still stuck on the word _bonded_. 

‘Now, I’m not condoning violence, I hope you understand that. You should have called an ambulance and filed a police report, at the very least. But I’ll get a referral to a legal expert for you so we can square this away. I’ve worked with him before, he’s very proactive. Pro bono. And frankly, between you and me, I don’t think you need to worry so much about five attackers who went out at night to target, assault and potentially brutalise a vulnerable omega, filing any report against you. That area of town is heavily surveilled anyway. But it’s best to have something in place if they do.’

‘That’s it?’ Sander checks, sure that it can’t be that simple.

Julie smiles at him, in a way that can only be described as motherly. ‘There’s a difference between losing control and letting your natural instincts come through. You acted out of self-defense and love. The key now is to let love guide you, not fear.’ 

She lifts a hand to her chest and taps a finger right over her heart, ‘Because fear spreads, Sander. But so does love.’ 

‘Ugh god,’ Sander groans, ‘I forgot how cheesy you can be sometimes,’ he laughs, and she does too.

They sit like this for a while, in silence, as Sander tries to take in this new found truth. _Bonded_.

‘So about the suppressants...’ she says, finally, the lightness Sander was starting to feel, instantly replaced by a heavy feeling of worry and regret pressing down on his chest.

‘Do you think I- could I have-’

‘Damaged your alpha?’

 _Any more than I already have_ , Sander adds in his mind. 

‘Did you get any advice from a doctor? Or is this something you did alone?’ she asks, and Sander can’t keep eye contact with her when he responds, ‘Alone.’

He hears her weary sigh, and the drawn out silence as she takes in his admission. ‘What was the dosage?’

‘50 milligrams.’

‘A week?’ she asks.

‘A day.’

A long pause, now. He knows that’s not good. She gets up from the chair and walks over to her desk, picking up the phone. ‘Hi Emma. Could you bring in an A kit? Yes. Thank you.’

Sander looks down, trying not to let the shame overpower the gratitude he feels for her help. ‘I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have-’

‘Sander, listen to me,’ she says and he looks up at her, at her kind eyes and blonde hair and at the baseball cap he still has no clue how she managed to get permission to wear in here. ‘What happened to you is _not_ your fault,’ she repeats, and Sander knows she’s talking about more than just last night now.

You’re not the first alpha to come here with this kind of story. It’s not something to be ashamed of. Illegal suppressants are dangerous, though, and your dosage was extremely high. The potential long lasting side effects--’

Just then, the nurse enters with what Sander assumes is ‘the A kit.’ Julie thanks her, then circles back around the desk to open it. Inside is a sealed test tube with clear liquid at the bottom, a syringe, some disinfectant wipes, and a tourniquet. Without a word, she quickly assembles it, takes a sample of Sander’s blood, and syringes it into the test tube, holding it at eye level and watching the liquid turn a deep royal blue. Sander tries to gauge her reaction. Her poker face is impeccable as always.

‘But,’ she continues, pulling off her latex gloves and throwing the whole kit into a special waste bin, ‘You’re lucky. Obviously your age is on your side, and it doesn’t seem to have caused permanent hormonal damage.’ Sander can’t tell who’s more relieved, him or her. 

‘I do think it’s best if you schedule weekly appointments with me again, though, starting next week. How would you feel about that?’

‘What was the blue stuff?’ he avoids the question and she lets him, at least for now. 

‘Most black market suppressants are cocktails of hormones, blood thinners, and sometimes... opioids. I see lots of alphas with changes in weight, some with digestive problems, insomnia, some with chronic migraines and depression. Suicidal thoughts. And those are the passing problems. The A kit is to test for the permanent ones.’

Sander falls quiet for a little while. He considers his ‘luck’ that he’s not caused permanent damage, still a little intimidated by the prospect of an oncoming rut and the thought of completely going off suppressants forever and letting his alpha, his true nature, be more present. With Robbe.

‘So,’ Julie smiles, adjusting her cap as she sits back down next to him, ‘Tell me all about him. Robbe, was it?’

**

Reaching the concrete steps outside, he lights a cigarette and sits down for a brief minute in the sunshine. 

As always, Sander is left a little speechless by his psychologist. She’d listened to him rant about Robbe for a while, then reminded him to make a weekly standing appointment with her in the reception, to sort out the fallout from his suppressants and whatever that’s masking, then sent him to stop by the sexual health clinic on his way out to get some condoms, pointing at her two children on the photo and laughing, ‘You don’t want _that_ kind of long lasting side effects, just yet.’

Sander scoffs, but doesn’t hide his relief that Julie is still able to talk to him like that. And he _does_ go by the clinic on his way out.

He desperately needs a shower, some coffee, and fresh clothes. But Julie’s advice has set his mind at ease for now. His alpha is not a threat. And he’s not a threat to Robbe.

He puts his earbuds in, listening to his Bowie playlist, and makes plans for his visit at Robbe’s later, what he’s gonna say, what he’s gonna wear. Excited like a kid on Christmas Eve. Then-

‘Sander?’

The voice comes from somewhere behind him and he turns to look up, blinking against the bright sunlight, scent coming at him so strong and so sudden, it almost knocks him over.

‘You didn’t have to come all the way _here_ to pick me up, you know?’ Robbe chuckles above him, rays of sunlight playing in his curls, golden like a halo around his head and for a moment Sander wonders if he is in fact hallucinating. 

‘Or are you really _that_ desperate?’ Robbe teases, and Sander realises that Robbe is really here. With him. At the hospital.

‘Oh, your mom-’ Sander realises, and gestures back at the building he had just exited minutes ago.

‘Yeah, she’s doing good. She might even come home soon,’ Robbe smiles wide. 

‘That’s great,’ Sander gets up on his feet, just standing there for a moment, trying to find his balance, trying to catch his breath. Because Robbe’s scent is _overwhelming_.

‘She keeps asking about you. Maybe we can visit her together next time?’ Robbe offers, a little shy now, cheeks blushing the prettiest pink, and Sander instantly senses a change in his scent, the intensity of it. And the intensity of his alpha’s reaction to it, the need to protect him.

‘I’d like that,’ Sander smiles down at him and takes both of Robbe’s hands in his own. 

‘Sander, your hands—’ Robbe gasps, twisting his wrists so he can get a closer look at Sander’s bruised knuckles. 

‘Yeah, honestly it fucking hurts,’ he chuckles, at little nervous at his own admission, but Robbe just looks up at him through fluttering lashes.

‘Let me kiss it better?’ he whispers and Sander just nods, watching his omega bring them to his lips, kissing each bruise carefully, enveloping him in omega care.

Sander sighs and leans in closer, tracing his nose along Robbe’s brow, up against the skin of his temple and into the softness of his hair, scenting his omega in full public display, ‘I missed you so much, Robbe.’

‘I missed you too, baby,’ Robbe whispers, slowly letting go of Sander’s hands to paw at his shirt and pull him closer still. Sander’s lips searches down and find his earlobe, sucking it in between his teeth and Robbe makes a small sound only Sander can hear, but the tenor of his voice changes as he whispers, ‘Can we go home now?’

‘Don’t you want your surprise?’ Sander murmurs, already salivating as he fantasises about what he’s going to do when he has Robbe alone.

‘You know I do,’ Robbe gives him a half-hearted shove, only to pull him back in again immediately, playing with the string of his sweatshirt, ‘Tell me!’

‘ _Kom_ ,’ Sander pulls back teasingly, tossing his head and taking Robbe’s hand to lead him down the concrete stairs.

‘Why won’t you just _tell_ me?’ Robbe giggles, clutching Sander’s wrist with both hands. 

‘ _Kooooom_ ,’ Sander hums as they reach the curb and walk over to get Robbe’s bike.

Hotel De Witte Lelie is only a 30 minute walk from the hospital, but it’s enough to drive Sander mad with his omega’s scent radiating out from him, strong and heavy to his alpha, like fresh, hot, delicious food to a starving man. It’s sweet, mouth-watering, filling Sander’s nose and head and blood with a deep, restless need.

A part of him pangs with guilt and worry - this is how it all started last night, and he’s still anxious about the aftershocks. But he remembers Julie’s kind words, the fact that his alpha’s first instinct is protection, the fact that he took responsibility immediately, the fact that he’s _bonded_ with Robbe now, in every way except the necessary mark on Robbe’s neck. He tries not to get anxious about that, too.

They stop at the entrance to the hotel.

‘Sander, what is this?’ Robbe says, his brown eyes wide as he looks up at the hotel sign. ‘No way…’

‘We have it for two nights. I called to check we could come today instead,’ Sander grins, gesturing with both hands now, ‘The room is _beautiful_ , Robbe, huge, with all these intense colours— you’re gonna love it. King size bed, bathtub, room service, late check-out, the works. And five stars on Booking.’ 

Robbe lets out a short, shocked breath, exclaiming, ‘ _What?_ The fucking- _Sander!_ That’s- that’s way too expensive!’

‘Nothing is too expensive for you,’ Sander says, eyes locked on Robbe’s. He wants him to know how much he means it.

Robbe is speechless, his mouth agape as he stares between the hotel entrance and Sander. His scent is still powerful but Sander can’t tell if he’s overstepped the mark.

‘But with the- uhm I mean, seeing as you’re almost in-’

‘In heat,’ Robbe states matter-of-factly, smirking.

‘In h-heat, yes,’ Sander stutters a little, backtracking quickly, ‘We don’t have to use it if you don’t want to. We don’t have to do anythi-’

But immediately, Robbe wraps his small hands around the back of Sander’s neck and leans up on his tiptoes to kiss him, with the same urgency as Sander’s feeling. _Fuck. Even his mouth tastes better when he’s in heat._

'Ik zie je graag' Robbe smiles against his lips as Sander tastes him, sweet and soothing. He wants to bellow out loud for how much he loves Robbe, but instead he twists a hand in Robbe’s curls and holds him closer to lick between his lips, whispering, ' _Ik ook._ ' 

‘Let’s go,’ Robbe says, as he stands back on his heels, his eyes fixed on Sander’s teeth.

**

Sander checks them both in, enjoying the way Robbe can’t stop touching him as the receptionist takes his credit card and pre-authorizes the payment. ‘Suite number 9,’ she says, with a smile, as she hands over the key cards and room service menu. ‘There’s a complimentary bottle of champagne waiting for you, Sir, seeing as it’s a special occasion,’ she adds with a wink.

They walk up the stairs, Sander never letting go of Robbe’s hand, and when they get into the spacious colourful room, the first thing Sander lays his eyes on is that large king size bed. But in the corner of his eye, he sees Robbe hovering from foot to foot, a little unsure. 

‘Hey, everything okay?’ Sander asks, pulling him back into his arms, and Robbe sighs with what feels like relief, melting into the touch.

‘Yeah, I’m good,’ Robbe murmurs into his chest, and pauses, ‘Champagne could be nice though?’ he suggests and Sander steps back with a grin, flinging off his green duffle bag and coat and running to the coffee table where the ice bucket and bottle of bubbly is waiting.

‘Time for champagne!’ he yells, gleeful, as he shakes the bottle wildly. 

‘No, no, no, no,’ Robbe exclaims, throwing off his own hat, coat as he runs towards Sander, ‘you don’t shake it! Then it’ll just burst out-’

‘That’s the idea,’ Sander says, shaking it even more, but Robbe pounces on him, trying to grab the bottle from him, laughing so hard as Sander manages to pop the cork and aim the spurting fountain of alcohol to drop into his mouth. Sander shares, too, and aims the rest into Robbe’s mouth. It makes a tacky, damp mess of them both, but Sander feels giddy and light-headed seeing Robbe so happy, teasingly letting him chase Sander’s lips until he tackles him, pushing him down on the bed and attacking his mouth with his own sweet, sticky lips. Sander revels in it, wants to savor every bit of Robbe’s desire, only stopping to pull Robbe closer to him, pressing their foreheads together.

‘Oh - you’re really hot,’ Sander whispers against his lips, feeling the heat of Robbe’s skin burning on his own.

Robbe rolls his eyes. ‘Stop flirting with me, I need a bath.’

‘No, I mean, yes- but also _you_ , your _temperature_ is high. Really high,’ Sander explains.

Robbe blushes and bites his lip, shifting a bit where he’s seated on top of him. ‘Yeah. I- it’s not gonna be long now. I can already feel…’ He trails off, but Sander already knows what he means. His alpha could sense it as they walked upstairs.

Tracing a hand down along Robbe’s spine to the small of his back, fingers teasing at the hem of his pants, Sander feels Robbe squirm a bit, breath catching. He slips a hand down to palm Robbe’s ass through the soft cotton of his boxer’s, already damp against his fingertips. 

‘Why don’t you take that bath while I order room service?’ Sander suggests. ‘Might help you cool down a bit.’

‘That’s a genius idea,’ Robbe says, still grinding back against Sander’s hand, eyes half-closed like he’s already a little drunk, _maybe he is_ , Sander thinks, before Robbe kisses him again, dragging all ten finger tips down to his belt, and playing with it.

‘But only if you join me,’ Robbe whispers.

‘I have to get us something to eat,’ Sander whispers back, then bites gently on Robbe’s bottom lip.

‘Just eat _me_ ,’ Robbe sighs, pulling on Sander’s zip, ‘Please.’

‘Then I’d never want to eat anything else,’ Sander replies cheekily, gently pushing Robbe away from him and towards the ensuite, ‘And you need dinner too,’ he picks up the room service menu.

‘You suck,’ Robbe grunts, as he grumpily pulls off his t-shirt.

‘Not yet,’ Sander calls back.

He hears Robbe draw the bath, and unpack some of his things Sander had packed in his green bag in secret the night before.

Sander calls out what he thinks they should get for dinner as Robbe plays around with the complimentary toiletries, yelling back his approval or disapproval from the bathroom as necessary. Once Sander makes the order with the restaurant staff, he goes to the hidden cupboard next to the bed, where the receptionist had told him he could find extras for mating stays. Blankets, pillows, pheromone massage oil and cooling lube, even a complimentary knotting dildo. 

Then he hears Robbe step into the free-standing bath, groaning softly as the tempered scented water covers him, and Sander’s alpha can’t bear not to see this sight. So he takes off his shirt, and stands in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe to just watch how Robbe has relaxed, eyes closed, the ends of his hair sticking to his wet skin, his arms stretched along the sides of the bath.

‘You’re an actual angel, Robbe,’ Sander sighs, smiling, ‘Way too innocent for this place,’ he teases, and Robbe slowly opens his eyes to raise an eyebrow at him.

‘Think again,’ Robbe replies, and suddenly time stands still. 

Keeping his gaze steady and intense on Sander the entire time, Robbe leans back and raises first one leg, then the other, from the water, and hooks his feet out over the edges of the bath. Sander can barely breathe. 

‘Robbe…’

The deep scent from Robbe hits Sander like a tidal wave. He licks his lips to stop from drooling.

’I miss the way you hold me,’ Robbe moans quietly, spreading his legs for his alpha, exposing _everything_ as his small hand reaches up to grab a hold of his neck and Sander mirrors his movements from where he’s standing, feeling his own scent glands throbbing against his fingertips.

‘Come here, _now_ ,’ Robbe instructs.

Sander whips off his jeans and underwear without a second thought, kneeling into the warm bath between Robbe’s spread legs, ignoring the fact that he’s sent water sloshing out onto the floor everywhere.

It feels like he’s moving in slow motion, every movement magnified with the significance of this moment, this moment and _every_ moment they’ll spend together from this day on.

He towers over Robbe, his hands gripping onto the bath on either side of Robbe’s head, trying to commit to memory how he looks like this, flushed and open and drunk on love or champagne or both. 

Robbe just stares up at him, as daring as he is pleading, biting his lip as his gaze drops to Sander’s lips and back up.

‘What do you want?’ Sander whispers. ‘You can have anything you want, baby, anything.’

‘I want…’ Robbe starts, trailing a finger down Sander’s nose, resting briefly in the divot above his upper lip, then pulling his bottom lip down until it softly springs back. Sander can’t help himself, he licks Robbe’s finger into his mouth and sucks on it.

‘Fuck,’ Robbe moans, a burst of his heat scent hitting Sander like another wave, and he groans with it.

‘I want… you. I want you to fuck me, Sander,’ Robbe exhales, taking hold of Sander’s right hand and moving it under the water, down over his stomach and in between his legs, where Sander can feel the softest, hottest, most open omega pussy he could ever dream of. It drives the breath from his lungs.

‘Before the food gets here,’ Robbe moans, smirking up at his alpha and tilting his chin up in challenge.

Sander raises an eyebrow at him and leans down for a kiss, but moves his head back at the last moment, teasing Robbe, relishing the way his omega keens.

‘Nah…’ Sander murmurs, licking along Robbe’s sensitive lips, ‘I’ll fuck you _twice_.’


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! 💕  
> Wow this chapter took forever - apologies for the long wait - hopefully it’ll be worth it! Thanks to everyone who’s followed the journey so far, we’re excited to share this chapter with you and hear your thoughts and theories as we get into the finale of this lil story 🙏😘

***

The bath is almost too hot now. Sander can feel it searing his skin, but then again, he doesn’t know if that’s actually the heat coming from Robbe. 

All he knows is he’s got a hand on the inside of Robbe’s thigh just under the waterline and it feels like they’re both burning. 

The room is already humid and his breath is already short as he looks down at Robbe, an absolute vision in scented bath oils and damp curls, angel pendant golden against his skin, flushed and shiny. 

And he smells so delicious, so luscious and ripe, that all Sander can think about is leaning down and sinking his teeth in. Only held back by that small voice in the back of his mind constantly reminding him he can’t, that he shouldn’t. 

But he’s distracted by the sound of Robbe moaning, and Sander realises he’s unconsciously moved his hand further up Robbe’s thigh, seeking out that centre of heat and scent. 

‘I’ve been waiting for this…’ Robbe whispers, ‘for _so_ long…’

Sander stares down at him, licking his lips before his body decides they can no longer be apart, their lips connecting again as his hand caresses up and up, tongue licking into Robbe’s mouth for comfort until his fingers find Robbe’s hole, hot and pulsating against his fingertips under the water. 

Robbe’s mouth falls open against Sander’s and he takes a sudden broken breath in, his back arching as he clasps on to Sander’s forearm, gasping as Sander eases him open, just allowing Robbe’s omega pussy to slowly envelop his middle and ring finger with perfect, slick, warmth. He slides them in all the way, finding the spot that makes Robbe squirm. 

And the way it _feels_. So cushioned, and hot, and wet, and soft. Sander’s alpha is keening for more, desperate to be fully inside Robbe and feel him everywhere, to melt together until no one can tell them apart, to claim him and feel Robbe claim him right back. 

But he reins in his impulses, and gently but swiftly removes his hand - prompting a stuttered groan of protest from Robbe as he takes it out of the water. 

‘Wh-what, Sander, _please_ I-’

But Robbe stops short when he watches Sander raise his hand up to his own mouth, touching his lips, his canines, with the fingers that were just inside. He doesn’t break eye contact with Robbe the entire time, as he moves them back and forth over his mouth, until he pushes them inside, and sucks.

‘Fuck,’ Robbe sighs, hands reaching up to twist in his own hair as he stares up at him, watching him, the primal possession of it all.

‘Kiss me, Sander’ Robbe pleads, pulling at him and Sander leans down again and licks into his mouth, letting Robbe taste himself on his tongue, lick along his teeth. They both cling to each other tighter at that, desperate for more.

‘I love how you taste,’ Sander moans against his lips, bringing the same fingers and thumb down to Robbe’s nipple, to tease it. ‘I love how sweet it is.’

Robbe whines into the kiss, and that’s when Sander leans in and starts to slide himself over Robbe’s sensitive pussy, teasing along where Robbe is most open, so soft against his own hardness as he parts it slightly with the length of his cock. He feels dizzy with want, can barely keep his eyes open, but he doesn’t look away, doesn’t want to miss a _second_ of the sight of Robbe like this.

Robbe lets out a moan that’s almost a shout, and Sander feels his body tremble, like Robbe just came a little bit, and he notices the sensation of warm wetness around the head of his cock, a heavy droplet leaking out of his omega. A shock of heat ripples through him in its wake.

‘Robbe,’ Sander moans.

‘S-Sander,’ Robbe moans back, almost begging, and Sander can’t help but smirk a little at that, still rutting against him, before bringing his hand down to wrap around both of them as he leans in to kiss Robbe again. 

He knows it’s intense, that Robbe might be just as overwhelmed as he is, with the heat and the touch and the taste of himself on Sander, but the way Robbe arches his back and groans is enough to tell him it’s _right_.

Robbe is out of breath, eyes still pleading for more between soft moans. And Sander decides to give it to him. He pulls them both together, accelerating his hand, teasing Robbe’s hole with the other, and kissing down his neck, resisting the urge to bite, just breathing against his skin until Robbe is teetering on the edge.

‘You’re mine,’ Sander whispers next to his ear. ‘You’re mine and I’m yours. Come for me, Robbe.’

Robbe convulses, a wave of bathwater splashing out onto the floor when he arches his back and groans so loudly that it sounds _obscene_ bouncing off the tiled walls. 

Part of Sander can’t believe it’s real, can’t believe he gets to witness this, the way Robbe looks and sounds and feels like this. It’s miraculous. 

His skin glows in the soft light, his throat strained against his own moans, his hands gripping Sander’s shoulders, all telegraphing his surrender to the pleasure Sander is giving him. 

As he calms, he opens his eyes slowly, so slowly, focusing on Sander at once, his lips parting as he heaves for breath. And Sander can’t look away, even though the intensity of Robbe’s stare makes him want to. The sheer force of love in his eyes is almost too much to bear.

‘Sander,’ Robbe says then, firmly, before he’s even come all the way back down from his high. ‘I need you. Get on the bed.’

  
**

Sander sees the colorful ceiling swing in front of him as Robbe pushes him onto the plush duvet.

They’re both still dripping and out of breath from the bath and even though Sander is vaguely aware that their room service is due to arrive any time now, he can’t for the _life_ of him find it in himself to care about anything but the very hot, very _in heat_ omega climbing on top of him in this very moment, Robbe’s small hands pinning him to the bed by his wrists.

‘Robbe, listen, listen-’

‘Hush,’ Robbe says, eyes raking possessively over Sander’s body, as he spreads his knees and grinds down onto him. Sander is shaking, his alpha barely controllable at this point.

‘F-fuck—’ Sander stutters. ‘Look, Robbe, I-’ he tries again, panting, but he interrupts himself when Robbe leans down and sucks a mark on his neck, nosing at his scent gland, still grinding down on top of him. 

‘I-I’m not gonna last,’ Sander utters brokenly, ‘My knot, I already know it’s gonna happen as soon as we start-’

But Robbe just chuckles against his skin, kissing down his neck and collarbone to his chest, locating one of Sander’s nipples and sucking it in between his sharp omega teeth. 

Sander hisses and his cock jumps in between Robbe’s thighs but Robbe just smirks up at him, new-found confidence in his eyes as he continues to slide down Sander’s body, kissing down his sternum, his belly, his hips, until Sander can’t look.

‘R-Robbe-’ Sander lets out, eyes squeezed shut.

‘I know you want to protect me,’ Robbe whispers from between his thighs, and Sander can _hear_ he’s smiling, even if he doesn’t dare look, even if he can’t do anything but pull his own hair and try to remember how to breathe.

‘I know you want to take care of me, Sander’ Robbe hums, taking a hold at the base of Sander’s cock, ‘But sometimes you’re gonna have to let me take care of you, too.’

That’s when he feels it, and his alpha keens in shock. That’s when he feels Robbe’s smooth, wet tongue licking up his hard dick. Still pinning Sander to the bed with his body as he envelopes the leaking head with his soft lips. 

Sander’s mouth falls open, hips bucking up to meet Robbe, who’s sucking at the tip, slowly teasing it into his mouth. 

It’s so overwhelmingly wet, hot, soft - all the sensation at once makes it difficult to focus, to _breathe_ , and Sander has to turn his head and bite into the pillow to not come right away. But something about the way Robbe’s hands are holding his hips, gentle but firm, something about the way he _sounds,_ confident and sure as he sighs with contentment, is helping Sander stay grounded with him, in this moment, minute by minute. 

So much so that he dares open his eyes to peek down at Robbe.

And the _sight_. Nothing short of divine. Robbe’s delicate fingers at the base of his cock, his pink lips stretching around his head, his flushed cheeks and his soft brown curls falling like a halo around his face. It’s such a beautiful sight, Sander wants to pinch himself to make sure it’s even real.

And the way Robbe is making it _feel_. So good, so inevitable. _Infinite_. 

Sander can’t decide if he should put his hands up by Robbe’s shoulders, or twist them in his hair, or place them on top of Robbe’s strong fingers, so he keeps switching back and forth, restless, until Robbe takes his hand and squeezes it gently, reassuringly, and just holds it. Like he knows Sander needs it.

Needs it to let his alpha open up and just receive the love his omega is offering.

And Sander knows he’s making too much noise, too, moaning and sighing and whining so loud that the other hotel guests are probably going to complain, but he cannot care about that right now. Not when he’s here, _finally_ , about to bond with his omega in ways he never thought was possible. Not when his omega feels and smells so good, looks so gorgeous and so unbelievably _edible_ , sucking him down to the knot.

‘Oh- god- Robbe, it’s- it’s already swelling-’ Sander realises, embarrassed at himself and his lack of self-control.

‘I know,’ Robbe says, with an omega growl Sander’s never heard before, his scent spiking with sex and possesiveness as he sinks back down, training his tongue to tease all the way along Sander’s shaft.

‘Shit,’ Sander breathes out, feels overtaken with pleasure and pride and affection for this boy, more than he’d ever thought possible. All he wants is to be connected to him, merge with him. _Mate_ with him. Envelop Robbe in as much love as he feels, raging like wildfire inside him. 

But he’s distracted as his knot expands a little more, so it’s almost too big to fit between Robbe’s lips now, and they both know there’s only a small window of opportunity before it’s going to be too big to fit in Robbe at all, at least for a while. Glancing up at his alpha, Robbe’s eyes are wide, pleading, and Sander nods, pulling at his arms.

Robbe clambers up on all fours, resting on Sander, his hands heavy on Sander’s chest as he locks eyes with him.

‘I wanna ride you,’ Robbe breathes out, blushing a little, and Sander has to bite the inside of his cheek to not fill out fully at those words, even if he already knew that’s what Robbe wanted just from the look on his face. 

‘Please, baby, hurry,’ Sander begs, reaching for the condoms on the nightstand, but Robbe just chuckles. 

‘I’m on birth control, silly,’ he smiles and reaches for Sander’s hand, his other hand finding it’s way behind him, holding Sander’s cock as he lifts up on his knees and guides it to his hole.

‘This knot is mine,’ Robbe whispers to himself, and Sander breaks out in a new sweat at the tone of his voice. 

He doesn’t have long to acclimatise though, before Robbe eases down onto him, just a little at first, his eyes closed in bliss as he adjusts to Sander’s size, his mouth open with a string of moans.

‘F-fuck,’ Sander groans, his cock sliding into Robbe a little more, filling him up slowly, and the thought echoes in his mind,

_I’m inside him. I’m inside my omega. My Robbe._

Robbe continues pushing down, pausing for a moment when he reaches Sander’s swelling knot, breath shallow and a small frown forming across his face as he tries to accommodate the thickness not even fully inflated yet. 

Just on instinct, Sander grabs Robbe’s hips and tries to still him, stuttering ‘Baby, I don’t- I don’t wanna hurt you- we shouldn’t--’

But Robbe just puts both hands on top of Sander’s, moving one up to Sander’s chest, the other to his own, both resting right above their hearts. 

‘Feel this’ Robbe whispers quietly, eyes still locked on his as Sander feels his racing heart thumping against Robbe’s small palm, starting to slow down to sync with Robbe’s against his own fingertips.

‘Does it feel like we shouldn’t?’ 

Sander bites his lip, feeling fresh tears slip from the corner of his eyes as he takes in this moment of complete surrender — to their truth, and the journey they shared from the first time Robbe spoke those words to him and to now.

And his alpha knows. It knew back then, and it knows now. 

Knows, that this is where he belongs, wrapped in his omega’s scent and care, soothing and heated, the words once again echoing around him, throughout him, inside him, _Does it feel like we shouldn’t? Does it feel like we shouldn’t?_

There was only ever one answer.

‘All the way or no way, eh?’ Sander smiles and Robbe smirks down at him, clearly remembering too. Exhaling slowly, he finally bottoms out, fully seated on Sander’s knot still swelling inside him and they both let out a loud, desperate groan.

‘ _This_ -’ Robbe sighs heavily, _‘this_ is what I needed.’

Robbe’s shallow breathing slowly deepens and he looks calmer now that they’re connected, his small hands pressing firmly into Sander’s chest as he starts moving on top of him.

Sander looks up at Robbe in awe, and his alpha has to grasp at the sheets tightly for something to hold on to. 

Robbe is so beautiful, so _breathtaking_ , as he moves with such ease, so natural, like they were always meant to be connected like this. 

Sander wants to say something, wants to _do_ something, but all he can manage is a broken moan, clinging to the sheets to not slip under and go into full rut.

‘Fuck Sander, this feels… so _good_ ,’ Robbe moans quietly and Sander feels a sudden urge to touch, to _see_ with his fingers what his eyes can’t. 

Forcing himself to release the tight grip in the sheets, he slides his hands up Robbe’s thighs, over his hips and around, Robbe’s ass gently rocking back against his palms and Sander is holding his breath in anticipation, heat and pride rising in his blood, rushing in his ears, as his fingers finally find that point of connection, the soft heat of Robbe’s pussy, wet and warm against his trembling fingertips, pulsating as Robbe tightens around the base of his knot.

Robbe’s mouth falls open at the touch and his head drops back, exposing the length of his neck so delicate and delicious Sander’s mouth waters at the sight.

‘Robbe…’ he whispers, hearing the wonder and awe in his voice, slightly wary of his own desire to just give up control and let instinct take over. 

Robbe must sense it too, because he tilts his head down to look at Sander, smiling, reaching out to pull at Sander’s shoulder.

‘ _Kom_ ,’ he murmurs, helping Sander to sit up straight.

Robbe settles further into his lap, wrapping his arms and legs around him. And Sander buries his face in Robbe’s neck, inhaling the sweet smell of scented bath oils and raw omega heat. 

They sit like this for a while, wrapped around each other tightly, Robbe gently rocking onto him, and Sander feels like he’s floating, weightless, like he’s somehow too big for his body.

‘I’m holding onto you,’ Robbe whispers into his hair, almost like he’s reading Sander’s mind, almost like he can tell what Sander needs to hear just from the way he’s clinging onto Robbe.

‘And I’m never letting you go.’ 

And something about this, something about Robbe repeating his own words back to him with such certainty, makes it easier to surrender, to let go and trust that deep down Sander’s alpha _knows_ Robbe’s omega, knows what he needs too.

In a swift move he flips them over, knocking the air out of both of them as they land on the bed still connected at their core, and Robbe lets out a high-pitched whine and arches up against Sander, arms and legs all splayed out under him, his delicate neck on display, _presenting_.

Sander takes in the sight of his omega, breathless, then leans down and glances his nose off Robbe’s scent gland and up into his hair and Robbe whimpers, his scent exuding a deep need to be taken, to be claimed.

‘Ik hou van jou,’ Sander promises against Robbe’s ear before their lips finally reconnect in a kiss so deep, so _desperate_ , that it simultaneously draws the breath from his lungs and breathes new life into its place. 

Lacing their fingers together, Sander presses Robbe’s small hands into the mattress and starts moving slowly, fucking into his perfect omega properly for the very first time.

Stars and comets fly through his mind’s eye, dipping below the horizon, dusting into Robbe’s hair. It’s all real. He can’t believe it. It’s _real._

‘Y-Yes,’ Robbe gasps, eyes rolling back in his head. 

‘Like this?’ Sander asks, even though his alpha already knows, already senses _everything_ , every inch and detail of his omega. The way Robbe’s scent is spiking, the way his trembling thighs are pulling him closer still, the warm wetness of his omega pussy pulsing around him. 

Robbe just chokes out a moan, nodding frantically.

And little by little Sander starts to let himself feel his alpha too, feel the way it takes control, firmly but softly. His knot swells almost to its fullest width as his alpha starts a beautiful rhythm with Robbe, pulling, pushing, easing deeper, feeling more connected to him than he’s ever felt before. Like his omega is completely taken, and holding Sander closer with every gentle thrust.

‘You’re perfect,’ Robbe sighs, raising his knees and crossing his ankles behind Sander’s back. ‘You are _perfect_.’ 

Sander makes a sound through his nose, burying it in Robbe’s hair, and a small voice at the back of his head wonders if he can still smell the stardust of other universes there. He thinks he must.

Digging his elbows into the mattress either side of Robbe’s shoulders, he gazes down at his omega, whose eyes are closed in bliss, lips parted as he breathes through the haze, a small trail of drool leaving the corner of his mouth. 

The way Sander’s heart blooms makes a wave of heat pass through him, head to toe, and then he hears Robbe groan. He realises they’re both close now. Really close.

‘I’m so lucky,’ Sander whispers, fraught and fraying at the edges, knowing it’s about to happen. ‘To have you here, to be inside you. You’re everything.’

‘Sander,’ Robbe moans, ‘I want to feel you come inside me.’

‘Oh, fuck-’ Sander moans, thrusting into Robbe now, his alpha keening to bond, to feel them connected as one.

‘Don’t hold back. I can take it,’ Robbe sighs, ‘I can take your alpha. _Please_ , _harder_ , Sander…’

And Sander obeys. He holds Robbe’s hips to the bed, and goes as deep into his omega as he can, driving them both together, and Robbe gasps, breathless now too, sounding almost in sweet pain as he reaches his second orgasm, his body writhing under Sander while he whispers, 

‘Come, Sander, _come now_ -’

It’s like the drop from a rollercoaster, the way Sander’s climax shocks and thrills him, his skin tense and tight as he lets out a loud moan, wanton and sated and relieved all at once, his alpha in tears when he at last, _at last_ , comes inside his omega for the very first time. 

He hears his perfect omega sigh, ‘ _Yes,_ alpha, _fill_ me…’ and immediately after, he comes again.

It feels never-ending. Like Sander’s alpha and Robbe’s omega were never really apart, like all the countless billions - eternal - parallel universes are merging into this one. Every moment melting into this _now_. 

He comes more. He comes so much that Robbe puts a hand on his own stomach and groans with pride at the feeling. 

That’s when his arms give out and he collapses into Robbe’s arms, still thrusting slowly, the sounds obscene in the big hotel room, so wet and filthy and beautiful, their stickiness dripping down their thighs and into the sheets, despite his knot almost fully inflated now.

‘I want it, Sander’ Robbe whispers into his hair, ’Will you give it to me?’ 

Sander nods. He knows what Robbe is asking, what he _needs_ , whining as he reaches the end of his climax and lets go completely, his knot expanding fully to lock inside Robbe. 

They both breathe out a sigh of relief, and Sander can no longer sense the friction burns on his knees or the spent exhaustion in his body in rut, the dryness of his lips. All he feels is his heart, close to bursting in his chest. 

And Robbe. He feels Robbe.

So much that he hits a wave of unexpected self-consciousness and hides his face in Robbe’s neck, giggling into his warm skin, their breaths slowing while they settle into the knot.

Quietly, Robbe kisses Sander’s temple, running his fingertips gently up and down his back, content just to hold him like this. And Sander soon eases his head up, seeking out Robbe’s lips with his own. 

‘You’re even better than I imagined’ Robbe sighs against his lips and kisses him back, ‘I wish we could do this in every universe… but I guess this one’s a start.’ 

Sander chuckles, then shivers lightly, trying to accept that anyone can feel about him that way. He wonders when Robbe will cease to surprise him.

When Robbe might find out more about Sander than he’s ready to know.

When Robbe might want less from him.

And he does not want that to happen.

‘Robbe, I need to tell you-’

His thought is interrupted by a sudden knock on the door and a muffled voice. 

Instantly, he and Robbe turn their heads to look at it. He knows what it is even before the voice announces: ‘Room service!’

‘Oh,’ Robbe says, wide-eyed and smiling as he looks between Sander and the door,, ‘Uhm… just leave it there, we’re… a little tied up.’

Sander snorts at Robbe’s choice of words and decides to go even further.

‘We just knotted!’ he declares to the hotel porter at the other side of the door. ‘It’s official!’

Robbe rolls his eyes and hides his face in his hands. ‘Wow,’ he sighs, deadpan.

‘Uh. Congratulations,’ says the porter, awkwardly. ‘I- I’ll just leave this here then.’ 

They’re both quiet, waiting to hear the shuffled steps go down the hall, but when their eyes meet, Sander can’t help but burst into laughter at the look on Robbe’s face.

‘This is the most embarrassed I’ve ever been!’ Robbe giggles, blushing.

 _‘Ever_?’ Sander raises an eyebrow, a mischievous smile forming on his lips, ‘You sure about that?’

_‘Sander…’_

He takes in a big breath, before belting out at full volume ‘I - I will be KING-‘

‘Sander.’ Robbe tries, still laughing.

‘And YOU- YOU WILL BE QUEEN!’ Sander continues, gleefully, his words muffled when Robbe claps a hand over his mouth, shaking his head vehemently even as he grins from ear to ear.

‘Sander, you’re _inside_ me’ Robbe huffs.

‘I know _’_ Sander hums into his palm, smirking when Robbe slowly removes his hand, testing.

‘And we can BE _HEROES’_ he shouts again, laughing, loving the blush on Robbe’s cheeks, the way he rolls his eyes fondly at him.

‘JUST FOR ONE DAY!’ Sander laughs, and then leans down glancing his nose off Robbe’s, ‘Just for one day’ he repeats, whispering now, and Robbe sighs in response.

 _‘One_ day, and I’m already regretting being stuck to you’ he teases, but smiles just the same, ‘No more singing, ok?’

‘No more singing’ Sander promises, crossing his heart and smiles down at him.

They settle into each other's arms, just lying there quietly purring and breathing each other in, until Robbe breaks the silence.

‘Mmh’ he inhales heavily, ‘Is it just me, or can you smell the food all the way in here too’ he chuckles.

‘Mmm’ Sander agrees, ‘Can’t wait for those mini burgers. But…’ he trails off with a smirk, pushing himself up on his elbows to look down at where he’s knotted to Robbe. ‘It’ll have to wait until I’m done with you.’

**

Sander’s lost track. Track of time. Of how many times he’s come. Where Robbe’s body ends and his own begins. 

The taste of food long faded as his senses are once again overtaken with everything _Robbe_.

Lost in his sweet scent thick in the air, his pungent taste heavy on his tongue, lost in the heat of his touch burning where his fingers are digging into Sander’s shoulders, searching upwards to grasp for hold in Sander’s hair, his trembling thighs cradling Sander’s hips. Lost in the softness of his lips and the sharpness of his omega teeth, as they graze along his own flushed skin.

‘Robbe’ Sander moans and feels his mouth water, over and over again, ignoring the way his teeth tingle with the urge to take, to bite, to _claim._

Just like Robbe has claimed him.

From the moment he first saw him, fox-like and beautiful, bathed in moonlight and love, before he even knew his scent, before he even knew his _name_. 

And now, Robbe has claimed him in every way possible, _in every spot available in this room_ , and once again Sander feels like he’s floating. Far above the moon. 

Or somewhere just under the colorful ceiling.

Looking down at them, in the moonlight, just like that first night.

‘I wish this feeling would never end’ he hears himself sigh and watches them together below, his alpha and Robbe’s omega, kissing and hugging, joking and laughing and smoking during the breaks in between, until the urge to be close, to be _one_ once again, takes over. 

‘I want you like this’ Robbe moans and turns around beneath Sander, pressing his face into the mattress as he pushes himself up on his knees, slipping a little on the sheets, damp with sweat and slick and drops of champagne, and Sander is slipping too.

His hands are on Robbe’s back, tracing patterns from where the golden pendant is resting, dipping down between his delicate shoulder blades, glinting like stellar polaris against Robbe’s smooth skin. Mapping out the path down along the curve of Robbe’s spine to where his hips are pushing back against him, beckoning, _begging_ , until Sander connects them again, and Sander wants to memorize every inch, every movement, wants to imprint this cosmic moment on his mind forever, wants to _howl_ at the goddamn moon.

Instead, Sander takes in a sharp breath as Robbe opens up for him again. Slowly he leans down, chest flush against Robbe’s back, face buried in his curls right above his scent gland as he places his hands on top of Robbe’s, interlacing their fingers. 

_‘Please…’_

Robbe keens under his breath, barely more than a whisper, baring the flushed skin of his neck and along with it his heart’s desire, and Sander is dropped from the sky, falling through the stratosphere like an asteroid gravitating towards Earth, towards Robbe, as he feels his own teeth grazing over the soft skin.

‘Please, Sander' Robbe whispers again, 'Please bite me.’

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> We’re zaddyskam and skamsnake on tumblr - come say hi 😍


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